J   O^K— 


LIBRARY 

OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 

Class 


FROM 

LADY  WASHINGTON 


TO 


MRS.  CLEVELAND 


BY 

LYDIA   L.    GORDON 


BOSTON   1889 
LEE     AND     SHEPARD     PUBLISHERS 

10   MILK   STREET   NEXT    "  OLD    SOUTH    MEETING   HOUSE  " 

NEW  YORK    CHARLES  T.  DILLINGHAM 

7lS    AND    72O   BROADWAY 


.6* 


COPYRIGHT,  1888,  BY  LEE  AND  SHEPARD. 


All  Rights  Reserved. 

FROM  LADY  WASHINGTON  TO  MRS.  CLEVELAND. 


BOSTON 

J.  PARKHILL  &  Co.    PRINTERS 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

LADY  WASHINGTON" i 

MRS.  JOHN  ADAMS 37 

MRS.  JEFFERSON 61 

MRS.  MADISON      . 87 

MRS.  MONROE 103 

MRS.  JOHN  QUINCY  ADAMS 117 

MRS.  JACKSON 135 

MRS.  VAN  BUREN 168 

MRS.  HARRISON 185 

MRS.  LETITIA    CHRISTIAN    TYLER — MRS.    JULIA    GARDINER 

TYLER 202 

MRS.  POLK 217 

MRS.  TAYLOR 238 

MRS.  FILLMORE 264 

MRS.  PIERCE 278 

Miss  LANE 293 

MRS.  LINCOLN 314 

MRS.  JOHNSON 344 

MRS.  GRANT 357 

MRS.  HAYES 389 

MRS.  GARFIELD 408 

MRS.  ARTHUR 420 

MRS.  CLEVELAND 431 


215379 


FROM 

LADY   WASHINGTON 

TO 

MRS.    CLEVELAND. 


LADY  WASHINGTON. 

ONE  hundred  and  fifty-six  years  ago,  in  the  month 
of  May,  was  born  a  girl,  to  *whom  the  god-parents 
gave  the  name  of  Martha.  Her  father,  of  Welsh 
descent,  was  a  Virginia  planter  of  the  olden  style, 
by  the  name  of  Dandridge.  In  a  home  of  ease, 
wealth,  and  refinement,  the  girl  grew  and  blossomed 
into  womanhood. 

In  those  days  there  were  no  United  States,  only 
colonies,  which  belonged  to  England,  and  the  gov 
ernors  of  each  held  vice-regal  courts.  Dinwiddie 
bore  sway  in  Williamsburg,  and  to  make  court  life 
attractive  and  gay,  gathered  about  him  all  the  youth 
and  beauty  of  the  colony. 

Miss  Dandridge,  just  turned  sixteen,  became  a 
belle  in  her  first  season,  and  when  it  was  over  she 
was  the  pledged  wife  of  Colonel  Custis,  a  man  of 
distinction  and  great  wealth.  Marriage  soon  followed. 
Three  children  came  in  quick  succession.  The  first- 


2  LADY    WASHINGTON. 

born  drooped  and  died.  Grief  told  upon  the  frail, 
consumptive  husband,  and  in  a  few  short  weeks  he 
too  sickened  and  died.  He  gave  a  large  portion  of 
his  great  wealth  to  his  young  wife  and  made  her 
guardian  of  the  two  remaining  children. 

The  wife  and  mother  thought  love,  hope,  and  hap 
piness  were  buried  with  her  dead.  Yet  time,  youth, 
natural  gayety,  and  sound  common  sense  did  their 
work,  and  a  couple  of  years  later  we  hear  of  the 
young  widow  of  Colonel  Custis,  visiting  about  the 
county  seats  and  entertaining  in  her  own  home. 
She  was  the  guest  of  Mr.  Chamberlayne  when  she 
first  met  Washington. 

Every  American  is  familiar  with  George  Washing 
ton  as-  the  mischievous  boy,  as  the  wise  general,  as 
the  dignified  president  of  these  United  States,  yet, 
few  associate  his  name  with  that  of  a  wooing  lover  — 
his  heart  always  bare  to  Cupid's  darts.  In  school 
boy  clays,  before  he  had  turned  fifteen,  he  was  madly 
in  love  with  a  girl  older  than  himself.  His  school- 
books  were  scribbled  over  with  doggerel  sonnets  — 
love-sick  rhymes  —  badly  written  and  worse  spelled, 
in  which  he  addresses  her  as  the  "  Lowland  Beauty  " 
—  the  only  claim  she  has  to  be  mentioned  in  history. 
Pardon  !  she  was  the  mother  of  Light  Horse  Harry 
and  the  grandmother  of  Robert  Edward  Lee,  —  the 
great  general  of  the  Confederate  army  of  the  Rebellion. 

When   the  people  of   the   North   were   mad  with 


LADY    WASHINGTON.  3 

passion,  —  could  hardly  be  touched  by  the  irons  of 
Jefferson  Davis, — there  was  always  a  kindly  feeling 
towards  Lee,  who  would  have  foreborne,  pleaded, 
done  what  he  thought  man  might  do  with  unclouded 
honor  to  save  the  Union  ;  yet  when  his  state  cast 
off  her  allegiance,  feeling  that  he  could  not  draw  his 
sword  against  her,  against  children,  relatives,  home, 
after  days  and  nights  of  struggle,  with  tears  stream 
ing  down  his  cheeks,  he  cast  off  his. 

All  through  the  war,  there  was  a  thrill  of  admira 
tion  for  the  man  who  maintained  his  cause  so 
bravely  against  such  bitter  odds. 

Amid  the  exultation  at  Appomattox,  there  were 
pity  and  respect  for  the  Hero  of  the  Confederacy. 
Following  that  event,  he  wrote  a  friend :  "  I  am 
looking  for  some  little,  quiet  house  in  the  woods, 
where  I  can  procure  shelter  and  my  daily  bread." 

To  his  honor  be  it  spoken,  he  took  the  compara 
tively  humble  office  of  president  of  a  small  college, 
taught  loyalty,  and  charged  Southern  mothers  not 
to  bring  up  their  sons  "  in  hostility  to  the  govern 
ment  of  the  United  States."  An  English  nobleman, 
who  would  have  been  glad  to  have  seen  the  Ameri 
can  Union  in  ruins,  so  misunderstood  the  noble  fibre 
of  the  man  as  to  come  forward  and  proffer  a  mansion 
and  large  estate  on  English  soil,  as  a  gift. 

To-day,  we  can  but  mourn  the  death  and  revere 
the  memory  of  one  so  great,  who  has  passed  into 


4  LADY    WASHINGTON. 

history  shorn  of  military  rank,  won  at  West  Point, 
and  military  glory,  won  upon  the  field. 

His  grandmother  probably  looked  upon  Washing 
ton  as  a  foolish  stripling  and  laughed  at  his  callow 
love. 

Even  after  his  luggage  was  on  board  ship,  the  boy 
had  been  thwarted  by  his  mother  in  his  project  of 
entering  the  English  navy,  and  now  that  the  love 
which  had  been  the  consolation  of  his  disappointed 
ambition  could  gain  no  hold  upon  the  heart  of  the 
girl,  he  went  on  writing  bad  verses,  thinking  life 
had  lost  its  zest,  and  that  he  was  very  unhappy. 

The  boy  lover  closes  a  letter  to  a  school  friend  to 
whom  he  has  confided  his  woes,  by  saying  :  "  Were 
I  to  live  retired  from  young  women,  I  might  in  some 
measure  alleviate  my  sorrows,  by  burying  that  chaste 
and  troublesome  passion  in  the  grave  of  oblivion." 

He  left  school,  and  went  to  Mount  Vernon,  the 
home  of  his  half-brother,  Laurence,  with  whom  he 
was  an  especial  favorite. 

Laurence  had  been  sent  to  England  in  early  youth, 
and  had  had  the  advantages  of  a  thorough  educa 
tion.  On  his  return,  he  had  married  Anne  Fair 
fax,  which  brought  George  into  close  intimacy  with 
the  whole  Fairfax  family,  who  ranked  high  in  the 
social  scale  both  in  England  and  America.  Their 
county  seat,  Belvoir,  was  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Mount  Vernon. 


LADY    WASHINGTON.  5 

George  William  Fairfax  had  just  brought  from  the 
mother  country  a  bride,  and  with  her  came  a  sister 
who  soon  shook  the  constancy  of  Washington  for 
his  "  Lowland  Beauty."  He  writes  to  a  certain 
"  Dear  Sally "  of  a  young  and  agreeable  lady,  who 
helps  him  to  pass  his  time  pleasantly,  but  makes 
him  rather  uneasy,  as  she  revives  a  very  "  trouble 
some  passion." 

Lord  Fairfax,  the  head  of  the  house,  was  a  man 
of  sixty  years  —  made  shy  and  eccentric,  an  exile 
from  England,  by  an  unfortunate  love  affair  in  early 
life. 

The  boy's  bold  riding  and  enthusiastic  ardor  for 
field  sports  attracted  the  recluse,  whose  chief  de 
light  was  in  fox-hunting,  and  he  made  him  his 
chosen  companion.  He  possessed  broad  tracts  of 
land  beyond  the  Blue  Ridge,  where  in  time  he  meant 
to  locate  and  build  a  manor  house. 

Observing  at  Mount  Vernon,  that  Washington 
practised  surveying  with  care  and  accuracy,  he 
proposed  that  he  should  cross  the  mountains,  sur 
vey  his  land,  and  mark  its  boundaries. 

One  month  from  his  sixteenth  birthday,  Washing 
ton  assumed  this  responsible  position.  The  life  in 
the  woods  just  suited  the  high  spirits  of  the  active 
boy  and  soon  repaired  the  damages  done  to  his 
heart. 

To   a   school  friend,   he  wrote  in   great    glee,   "  I 


6  LADY    WASHINGTON. 

have  not  slept  in  a  bed  more  than  three  or  four 
nights  this  summer.  After  walking  all  day,  I  have 
lain  down  at  night  upon  a  little  straw  or  fodder,  or 
a  bearskin,  with  man,  wife,  and  children,  like  dogs 
and  cats — happy  is  he  who  gets  the  berth  nearest 
the  fire." 

A  year  later  he  attracted  the  attention  of  govern 
ment  officers  and  was  appointed  public  surveyor ; 
upon  the  records  of  Culpeper  county,  may  be  read 
that  "thereupon  he  took  the  usual  oaths  to  His 
Majesty's  person  and  government,  and  took  and 
subscribed  the  abjuration  oath  and  then  the  oath 
of  surveyor,  according  to  law." 

The  greater  part  of  the  year  was  spent  beyond 
the  Alleghanies,  and  the  boy  became  a  man,  skilled 
in  woodcraft,  learned  in  the  red  men's  way,  and  the 
foundation  of  his  future  greatness  was  laid. 

Laurence,  his  brother,  the  master  of  Mount  Ver- 
non,  was  in  failing  health ;  sunnier  climes  were 
ordered,  and  our  Washington  was  his  companion 
and  nurse  to  Barbadoes.  Here  he  had  the  small 
pox  in  the  natural  way,  and,  for  a  time,  was  very  ill. 

The  change  and  climate  were  of  no  benefit  to 
Laurence,  and  it  was  suggested  that  he  should  try 
Bermuda.  George  went  home  to  bring  his  wife  to 
make  the  voyage  with  him. 

Hope,  however,  died  out  of  the  sick  man's  bosom, 
and  such  a  longing  for  home,  to  die  at  home,  came 


LADY    WASHINGTON.  / 

over  him,  that  he  took  the  next  vessel  and  reached 
there  soon  after  his  brother.  Consumption  paved 
the  way,  and  before  the  summer  ended,  death  came 
to  end  his  sufferings  and  bear  him  to  the  unknown 
world. 

Upon  the  death  of  his  only  child,  George,  by  his 
will,  became  the  master  of  Mount  Vernon,  which, 
added  to  the  estate  he  had  inherited  from  his  father 
on  the  banks  of  the  Rappahannock,  made  him,  at 
twenty,  one  of  the  wealthiest  of  planters. 

The  French  began  at  the  North  to  build  a  chain 
of  forts  ;  one  in  the  Ohio  region  roused  the  ire  of 
the  English  ;  they  denied  the  claims  of  the  French, 
and  meant  to  resist  them. 

When  Governor  Dinwiddie  was  seeking  an  agent 
to  interview  the  commandant,  and  remonstrate 
against  the  building  of  forts,  Washington,  just 
twenty-one,  offered  his  services  to  tread,  in  mid 
winter,  the  trackless  forest,  beset  with  unfriendly 
savages.  He  performed  his  task  with  the  skill  of  a 
veteran.  Though  he  only  brought  back  the  ambigu 
ous  answer  of  the  polite,  wily  Frenchman,  his  mili 
tary  eye  had  noted  much  that  it  was  well  for  the 
English  governor  to  know. 

Troops  were  called  out,  a  regiment  formed,  and 
the  command  given  to  Washington,  with  title  of 
lieutenant-colonel.  An  advance  was  made,  but  as 
the  French  and  Indians  had  taken  the  field  with 


8  LADY    WASHINGTON. 

greatly  superior  numbers,  the  attempt  was  a  failure, 
and,  for  the  time,  abandoned. 

Then  followed  more  stirring  times ;  Braddock 
came  from  England  with  two  regiments  to  do  more 
than  remonstrate  against  fort-building  south  of  Lake 
Erie.  He  heard  the  praises  of  the  young  colonel 
who  had  been  at  the  French  forts,  and  invited  him 
to  headquarters.  Washington  eagerly  obeyed  the 
summons. 

There  had  been  a  distinction  made  between  the 
pay  and  rank  of  a  provincial  officer  and  one  who 
held  a  commission  from  the  king.  Washington, 
having  too  much  self-respect  to  submit  to  insult  or 
injustice,  had  resigned  and  retired  to  Mount  Vernon. 

To  obviate  the  difficulty,  Braddock  invited  him  to 
join  his  military  family  as  aide-de-camp.  His  mili 
tary  ardor  being  aroused  to  fight  under  one  of  the 
most  skilled  generals  of  the  British  army,  he  gladly 
accepted  and  joined  the  troops  bound  for  the  Monon- 
gahela. 

Used  only  to  militia  troops,  his  eyes  kindled  with 
delight  at  the  brilliant  display  of  the  perfectly 
drilled  and  finely  equipped  soldiers,  under  their 
martinet  commander. 

As  the  march  went  on,  the  young  aide  ventured  to 
make  a  suggestion  to  the  officer  .of  His  Grace  the 
King.  It  was  rejected,  if  not  scorned. 

An  Englishman  can  march,  fire,  fight,  if  it  be  done 


LADY    WASHINGTON.  9 

according  to  the  military  rule  in  which  he  has  been 
drilled  —  none  better  —  can  even  fight  after  he  has 
been  whipped,  too  obtuse  to  find  it  out ;  but  there  is 
in  him  no  versatility  of  talent  to  adapt  himself  to 
any  peculiar  tactics  of  his  foe.  Now  he  has  to  deal 
with  skulking  savages,  but  "  regulars  "  must  stand  in 
squads,  and  shoot  by  rule.  Screen  themselves  by 
trees !  Heaven  forbid !  better  die,  and  die  they  did. 
Braddock,  after  having  five  horses  killed  under  him, 
was  mortally  wounded.  Only  four  officers  alive  and 
unwounded  of  the  eighty-six  who  had  marched  so 
gallantly  forth  ! 

How  that  the  battle  is  fought  and  lost,  our  young 
provincial  and  the  despised  Virginia  Rangers  come 
to  the  front  and  bear  away  the  dying  commander 
and  lead  the  shattered  remnant  to  a  place  of 
safety. 

The  English  chaplain  being  wounded,  Washington 
read  the  burial  service  over  the  brave  officer  he  had 
so  admired,  and  laid  him  in  a  grave  in  the  forest. 

There  was  one  man  at  least  in  the  land,  who  was 
not  surprised  by  Braddock's  defeat.  Franklin  had 
been  in  England  and  knew  Englishmen.  When 
the  consequential  general  came,  he  had  assisted  in 
his  equipment,  and  given  some  advice  as  to  Indian 
ambuscades.  The  way  it  was  taken  —  the  general's 
confident  smile  at  his  ignorance  of  the  skill  of  the 
"  King's  regulars  "  in  fighting  savages,  told  him  that 


IO  LADY    WASHINGTON. 

the  man  was  going  to  his  ruin,  and  the  fort  would 
not  be  taken. 

Money  was  raised  in  Philadelphia  for  fireworks 
to  celebrate  the  victory.  Franklin  declined  giving, 
on  the  ground  that  there  would  be  no  victory  to 
celebrate. 

The  story  of  the  defeat  went  to  England,  where  it 
was  told,  that  the  provincial  aide-de-camp  had  said 
that  the  whistling  of  the  bullets  was  like  music  in 
his  ears,  and  so  earned  the  title  of  "  braggadocio," 
years  before  he  was  known  as  the  arch-rebel  of 
America.  George  II.  sneeringly  remarked  "  that  if 
he  had  heard  more,  he  would  not  have  thought  so." 
In  after  years,  Washington  said  if  the  words  were 
his,  they  were  spoken  when  he  was  very  young. 

At  twenty-four  he  went  to  Boston,  to  confer  with 
the  military  authorities  on  the  vexed  subject  of 
rank.  On  his  return  he  tarried  in  New  York,  and 
there  he  came  again  in  contact  with  troublesome 
"young  women."  As  in  his  boy  days,  his  heart 
settled  upon  the  fairest  and  brightest,  but  "faint 
heart  ne'er  won  fair  lady."  While  our  modest 
Washington  was  dallying  about,  afraid  to  woo  too 
boldly,  his  brother-in-arms,  the  bolder  Morris,  talked 
business,  and  the  fair  Mary  Philipse,  mistress  of 
broad  acres  on  the  Hudson,  was  won. 

Active  service  again  healed  the  wounds  of  love. 
For  the  fourth  time  Washington  was  ordered  to 


LADY    WASHINGTON.  I  I 

Fort  Du  Quesne,  to  lead  Virginia  troops  to  do  what 
the  skilled  Braddock  had  failed  to  do. 

This  time  the  lion  of  England  devoured  the  lilies 
of  France,  and  the  red-cross  banner  of  St.  George 
waved  on  the  banks  of  the  Monongahela. 

Washington  was  now  famous,  his  name  familiar 
in  all  the  colonies.  Again,  one  of  those  "young 
women "  crossed  his  path.  He  was  making  one  of 
his  military  trips  on  horseback  and  was  ferried  over 
the  Pamtinkey  to  the  estate  of  Mr.  Charnberlayne. 
The  hospitable  owner  met  him  and  urged  a  visit  to 
the  house.  Washington,  without  that  strict  regard 
to  truth  which  has  so  immortalized  him,  declined,  on 
the  ground  that  his  military  business  with  the  gov 
ernor  was  too  urgent  for  delay.  His  would-be  host 
must  have  known  something  of  his  fondness  for 
women,  for  he  descanted  upon  the  guests  gathered 
at  the  house,  among  whom  was  a  widow,  young,  rich, 
and  charming.  Washington,  never  proof  against 
such  inducements,  accepted  for  dinner,  with  the 
proviso  that  he  should  leave  as  soon  as  it  was  over, 
and  ride  through  the  night,  that  he  may  keep  his 
promise  of  meeting  the  governor  at  dawn. 

The  young  woman  did  her  work  upon  his  heart, 
and  "love  ruled  the  hour."  This  time  he  struck  a 
responsive  chord.  At  the  appointed  time,  the  faith 
ful  servant  brought  round  his  horse,  was  met  by 
the  smiling  host,  and  ordered  to  stable  him  for  the 


12  LADY    WASHINGTON. 

night.  Had  the  Heavens  fallen?  —  was  his  exact 
and  punctual  master  to  play  the  governor  false  ? 

The  next  day,  the  sun  was  high  before  Washing 
ton  spurred  his  way  to  Williamsburg.  He  did  his 
business  with  despatch  and  returned  to  visit  the 
widow  in  her  home,  called  the  White  House,  a  name 
which  the  nation  has  fondly  preserved  in  the  presi 
dential  mansion.  An  engagement  was  formed,  which 
ended  in  marriage,  on  Twelfth  Night,  1759,  at  St. 
Peter's  church — in  the  presence  of  the  bride's 
father,  children,  and  a  host  of  distinguished  guests. 

The  bridegroom  was  dressed  in  a  red  velvet  coat 
and  embroidered  waistcoat ;  the  bride,  in  rich  white 
silk. 

It  was  a  gay  party  that  returned  to  the  White 
House  to  eat  the  marriage  feast,  and  toast  the  pair 
in  champagne  and  rich  wines,  that  were  served  with 
out  stint. 

All  the  servants  on  the  entire  estate  were  given  a 
holiday,  and  in  holiday  attire  joined  in  the  merry 
making. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Washington  danced  the  minuet,  and 
the  house  rang  with  laughter,  merriment,  music,  and 
dancing. 

All  the  house  servants  were  given  a  slice  of  cake 
and  a  piece  of  money. 

Washington  rose  early  and  ate  with  his  bride  in 
her  chamber,  before  the  guests  had  risen. 


LADY   WASHINGTON.  13 

The  portrait  of  Mrs.  Washington,  painted  by 
Woolaston,  in  the  days  of  her  widowhood,  presents 
a  woman  rather  below  the  middle  size,  but  extremely 
well -shaped,  with  an  animated  face,  dark  chestnut 
hair,  and  hazel  eyes  —  not  a  beauty,  but  very  attrac 
tive.  She  is  said- to  have  had  those  frank,  engaging 
manners  so  captivating  in  Southern  women. 

Washington  was  a  member  of  the  House  of  Bur 
gesses,  and  for  three  months  lived  in  the  home  of 
his  wife.  The  session  over,  Mrs.  Washington  and 
her  two  children,  a  boy  of  six  and  a  girl  of  three, 
were  driven  to  Mount  Vernon. 

Washington  wrote  his  English  relatives  that  now 
he  had  an  "  agreeable  partner  he  should  settle  down 
to  domestic  life."  Life  was  like  that  of  a  gentle 
man's  country  life  in  England, — driving,  visiting, 
fox-hunting,  shooting,  boating,  and  agricultural  pur 
suits,  rilled  up  a  round  of  pleasures.  Mrs.  Wash 
ington  had  a  chariot  with  four  horses,  and  black 
postilions  in  white  and  scarlet  livery ;  if  her  husband 
joined  her,  it  was  on  horseback,  only  on  Sundays 
did  he  use  a  carriage. 

Upon  this  almost  holiday  life  began  to  be  heard 
the  low  mutterings  of  a  coming  storm.  Upon  the 
arrival  of  the  Stamp  Act  in  Massachusetts,  the 
tempest  broke  and  out  of  it  came  the  whirlwind. 
England,  astonished  and  alarmed,  repealed,  and 
things  took  on  a  brighter  aspect,  but  with  the 


14  LADY    WASHINGTON. 

shortsightedness  of  George  III.,  and  with  England's 
generosity,  she  declared  her  right  to  levy  taxes  at 
will,  and  again  the  parted  clouds  rolled  together. 
Washington  carefully  scanned  the  political  horizon, 
and  kindled  at  the  oppression  of  the  mother  country. 

While  he  was  sitting  at  session  in  Williamsburg, 
1773,  Mrs.  Washington  wrote  him  of  the  alarm 
ing  illness  of  her  daughter.  This  girl,  just  budding 
into  womanhood,  was  very  beautiful,  —  a  brunette  of 
so  dark  a  type  that  she  went  by  the  name  of  the 
"dark  lady."  She  inherited  her  father's  face,  and  a 
delicacy  of  constitution  which  had  always  been  a 
cause  of  great  anxiety. 

The  frail,  lovely  girl  had  been  an  especial  favorite 
with  her  stepfather,  and  she  returned  his  fondness 
with  all  the  warmth  of  a  young  girl's  heart,  —  at  her 
death  giving  him  her  great  fortune. 

Hearing  of  her  illness,  Washington  hastened  to 
her  side,  threw  himself  on  his  knees  and  prayed  : 
before  the  prayer  had  ended,  her  spirit  had  passed 
away. 

For  a  time,  Washington,  to  console  his  wife,  re 
mained  at  home,  though  he  had  made  an  engage 
ment  to  go  into  the  western  country  with  Lord 
Dunmore. 

The  only  differences  between  Washington  and  his 
wife,  which  have  come  down  to  us,  were  on  the  sub 
ject  of  managing  the  children.  As  they  were  hers, 


LADY    WASHINGTON.  15 

not  his,  and  independent  of  him,  he  felt  much  deli 
cacy  in  interfering  with  the  discipline. 

The  girl  had  been  gentle  and  obedient,  not  spoiled 
by  indulgence  and  petting,  but  with  the  boy  it  was 
different. 

Washington  would  often  say  he  could  govern  men, 
but  not  boys.  Two  years  before  Miss  Martha's 
death,  Master  John  Parke  had  been  sent  to  Annap 
olis,  to  study  with  an  Episcopal  clergyman. 

When  Washington  returned  from  one  of  his  mili 
tary  trips,  he  found  that  arrangements  were  made, 
with  the  mother's  consent,  for  the  boy  to  go  abroad, 
taking  his  teacher  for  a  travelling  companion.  He 
was  resolute  in  opposing  the  scheme.  The  boy's  ed 
ucation  was  very  imperfect ;  he  had  been  rather 
given  to  fox-hunting  and  other  outdoor  sports,  and 
now  he  was  approaching  manhood.  Another  con 
sideration  was  the  expense.  The  services  of  the 
reverend  gentleman  would  be  a  heavy  charge,  — 
would  anticipate  half  his  income,  wrote  his  step 
father.  There  was  much  controversy  over  it;  but 
where  duty  was  concerned,  Washington  could  be  very 
firm,  even  with  his  wife.  The  journey  was  postponed, 
if  not  abandoned. 

After  the  burial  of  his  sister,  the  young  gentle 
man  presented  a  new  and  far  more  serious  difficulty 
for  the  consideration  of  his  family.  He  has  asked 
Eleanor  Calvert  to  be  his  wife,  and  she  has  promised 


1 6  LADY    WASHINGTON. 

that  she  will.  The  youth  of  eighteen  was  ready  to  re 
deem  his  pledge  to  this  young  lady  of  fifteen.  His 
mother  -had  heard  the  love-tale  earlier,  and  had  not 
been  shocked.  Mr.  Calvert  had  been  duly  asked  for 
his  daughter,  and  had  given  his  consent.  Washing 
ton  was  in  dismay,  —  rather  wished  the  boy  were 
travelling  in  Europe. 

Miss  Nelly  came  from  the  best  of  blue  blood,  was 
the  daughter  of  Benedict  Calvert,  granddaughter  of 
Lord  Baltimore.  She  was  very  pretty,  and  very 
charming  ;  no  objection  to  the  girl. 

Washington  thought  it  unnecessary  for  a  gentle 
man  to  be  a  scholar,  but  this  boy  was  deficient  in 
arithmetic,  —  in  the  common  branches  of  learning. 
It  was  rather  delicate  business  for  him  to  present 
objections  to  Mr.  Calvert,  but  the  affair  must  be 
postponed.  It  was  finally  arranged  that  the  young 
gentleman  should  go  to  King's' College,  New  York, 
and  remain  two  years  ;  then  the  marriage  should  take 
place.  Washington  accompanied  him  there,  and  made 
all  necessary  arrangements. 

John  Parke  Custis  did  not  love  study  nor  books  — 
was  homesick  ;  visions  of  pretty  Nelly  Calvert  floated 
before  his  eyes,  and  he  spent  most  of  his  time  scrib 
bling  to  her. 

In  ajfew  months  he  was  at  home  again,  urging  an 
immediate  marriage. 

In  consideration  of  the  boy's  inclination,  the  de- 


LADY    WASHINGTON.  \J 

sire  of  his  mother  and  the  consent  of  his  friends, 
Washington  felt  that  it  was  not  wise,  at  the  last, 
to  push  his  opposition  too  far,  and  submitted  to 
necessity. 

The  children  were  married  at  Mt.  Airy,  Maryland, 
and  the  bride  was  brought  to  Mount  Vernon. 

The  mutterings  of  the  rising  storm  grew  louder 
and  louder.  Long  before,  the  English  government 
had  sown  the  dragon's  teeth,  and  had  kept  them  well 
watered  ;  now  the  time  of  harvest  was  setting  in. 

Boston  had  risen  in  her  might,  made  tea  in  Mas 
sachusetts  Bay,  thus  defying  the  power  of  Great 
Britain.  George  the  Third,  in  almost  crazy  fury, 
determined  to  mete  out  due  punishment  to  the 
rebels,  —  grass  should  grow  in  the  busy  streets  of 
Boston. 

A  new  governor  was  sent,  with  two  regiments  of 
soldiers,  to  do  the  royal  will  and  crush  the  commerce 
of  the  rebels. 

Before,  there  had  been  no  union  among  the  colo 
nies,  but  the  oppression  of  England  and  the  resist 
ance  of  Boston  roused  the  spirit  of  the  people,  and, 
at  the  suggestion  of  Franklin,  a  general  Congress 
met  at  Philadelphia,  of  which  body,  Washington  was 
a  member. 

Little  was  done,  and  times  grew  darker,  artd  men 
more  sober,  until  the  story  of  Lexington,  and  Con 
cord  was  told,  when  it  was  determined  that  the  little 


1 8  LADY    WASHINGTON. 

band  defying  the  British  Regulars  around  Boston 
should  be  the  nucleus  of  an  army  to  oppose  Great 
Britain. 

Washington  was  unanimously  chosen  commander- 
in-chief.  Touching  was  the  letter  he  wrote  his  wife, 
begging  her  to  summon  all  her  fortitude,  and  to  pass 
her  time  as  agreeably  as  possible ;  yet  he  was  not 
thinking  it  more  than  a  summer's  campaign.  Seven 
long  years  of  trial  and  anxiety  followed,  and  Wash 
ington  saw  Mount  Vernon  but  once. 

In  July  he  took  command  of  the  army  beneath  an 
elm  in  Cambridge,  Massachusetts.  In  November,  he 
invited  Mrs.  Washington  to  join  him,  at  the  same 
time  ordering  his  agent  to  keep  up  the  hospitalities 
of  his  house.  "  Let  no  one  go  away  hungry."  Mrs. 
Washington  came  in  her  own  chariot  drawn  by  four 
horses,  with  black  postilions  in  white  and  scarlet  liv 
ery.  Her  coming  brightened  the  dark  days  for  him 
and  for  the  army.  That  winter,  Washington  made  a 
house  in  Cambridge  historic,  which  Longfellow  has 
since  made  classic. 

On  New  Year's  Day,  1776,  the  Union  flag  of  thir 
teen  stripes  was  hoisted  for  the  first  time  "  in  com 
pliment  to  the  United  Colonies,"  and  there  were 
great  festivities  held  in  the  general's  quarters. 

It  had  been  the  custom  at  Mount  Vernon  to  cele 
brate  Twelfth  Night  —  the  anniversary  of  the  wed 
ding.  Mrs.  Washington  was  reluctant  to  omit  its 


LADY    WASHINGTON.  ig 

observance,  and  proposed  giving  a  party  at  head 
quarters.  Washington  objected — thought  it  un 
seemly.  His  wife  was  never  the  man  of  the  house, 
but  had  very  coaxing  ways,  and  when  she  had  a  per 
sonal  whim  or  fancy  to  gratify,  she  was  very  sure  he 
could  not  hold  out  against  her.  Twelfth  Night  was 
celebrated  with  great  elegance,  and  there  are  tradi 
tional  memories  of  other  entertainments,  which  were 
equally  fine. 

One  bright,  sunny  morning  in  March,  His  Majes 
ty's  officers,  cooped  in  Boston,  opened  their  eyes 
very  wide, — the  view  was  not  exactly  exhilarating. 
Heights  which  commanded  the  city  and  its  harbor 
were  covered  with  works. 

Thinking  there  must  be  genii  in  the  American 
army  and  they  were  rubbing  Aladdin's  wonderful 
lamp,  they  thought  it  the  better  part  of  valor  to  sail 
away,  warning  Washington  that  they  would  burn 
the  city  if  he  fired  a  shot.  They  went  to  Halifax 
to  recuperate  their  spirits,  after  being  outwitted. 
Washington,  with  his  family  and  armv,  removed  to 
New  York. 

The  Americans  had  won  the  first  point  in  the 
game,  and  the  commander-in-chief  was  waiting  for 
the  second  deal. 

"  When  I  first  took  command  of  the  army,"  he 
said,  "  I  abhorred  the  idea  of  independence  ;  but  now 
I  am  fully  convinced  that  nothing  else  will  save  us." 


2O  LADY   WASHINGTON. 

There  were  many  cases  of  small-pox  among  the 
troops,  and  Washington  felt  great  anxiety,  lest  his 
wife  might  take  the  disease.  He  urged  that  she 
should  submit  to  inoculation.  At  this  very  time, 
Jenner  knew  the  cow-pox  was  the  better  remedy,  but 
he  had  not  given  his  discoveries  to  the  world.  There 
was  a  violent  prejudice  against  inoculation.  So  per 
secuted  was  Lady  Mary  Wortley  Montagu,  that  she 
repented  ever  pouring  her  Turkish  knowledge  into 
English  ears.  Mrs.  Washington  shared  this  preju 
dice,  but  at  Philadelphia,  on  her  way  to  Mount  Ver- 
non,  she  submitted  to  her  husband's  entreaties,  and 
the  result  was  satisfactory. 

The  dramatic  event  of  1776  was  the  Declaration 
of  Independence.  A  unanimous  vote  of  the  thirteen 
colonies  was  taken  in  its  favor  just  after  the  hour  of 
noon,  Fourth  of  July.  The  populace  knew  this  day 
was  to  decide  th'e  great  event.  From  early  morning 
the  old  bellman  had  been  in  the  belfry,  having  sta 
tioned  a  boy  below  to  give  the  signal.  The  hours 
went  by,  and  the  old  man  began  to  lose  hope. 
"  Ah  !  "  he  groaned,  "  they  will  never  do  it.  They 
dare  not  do  it  !  "  Just  then  the  boy  clapped,  threw 
up  his  hat  and  shouted,  "Ring,  bellman,  ring!" 
For  two  hours  the  man  did  ring,  and  the  joyous  peal 
gave  notice  that  the  Declaration  of  Independence 
was  adopted,  and  rang  a  knell  that  England's  author 
ity  over  the  colonies  was  over. 


LADY   WASHINGTON.  21 

By  a  -curious  chance,  upon  the  fillets  of  the  bell, 
imported  from  England  years  before,  are  the  words  : 
"  Proclaim  liberty  throughout  all  the  land,  unto  all 
the  inhabitants  thereof."  When  the  news  reached 
New  York,  Washington  commanded  the  Declaration 
to  be  read  at  the  head  of  each  brigade. 

The  second  winter  was  spent  at  Morristown,  and 
again  Mrs.  Washington  and  wives  of  the  officers 
came  to  headquarters,  but  we  hear  of  no  parties  or 
any  gayety.  Winter  set  in  early  and  was  uncom 
monly  severe.  The  troops,  hutted  on  the  heights, 
without  blankets,  were  for  weeks  on  half  rations,  - 
sometimes  without  bread  or  meat.  The  presence  of 
ladies  in  camp,  intent  on  charity  and  deeds  of  kind 
ness,  did  much  to  dispel  the  gloom,  and  the  blessings 
of  thousands  followed  them,  when  the  season  was  over. 

It  was  in  this  winter  of  ^almost  actual  starvatioi^ 
that  Mrs.  Philipse,  the  mother  of  Miss  Mary  of  "  Lang 
Syne,"  complained  by  letter  to  Washington,  that  his 
troops  had  stolen  her  cows,  and  the  family  had  to  do 
without  milk.  He  courteously  replied,  "  Far  be  it 
from  me  to  add  to  the  distress  of  a  lady  who,  I  am 
but  too  sensible,  must  already  have  suffered  much 
uneasiness,  if  not  inconvenience,  on  account  of  Col 
onel  Philipse's  absence ; "  assuring  her  that  cows 
should  be  sent  her,  but  she  must  be  on  honor  not  to 
keep  more  than  was  necessary  for  the  private  use  of 
her  family. 


22  LADY    WASHINGTON. 

At  one  time,  Washington's  headquarters  were  in 
the  house  where  he  had  once  tried  to  summon  cour 
age  to  whisper  a  love  tale  to  its  fair  mistress. 

How  widely  had  the  paths  of  the  two  diverged  ! 
Major  Morris  and  his  lady  were  quartered  among  the 
Royalists. 

Times  were  hard  for  the  patriots,  but  now  and 
then  Washington  would  do  some  daring  deed.  One 
Christmas  night,  he  burst  upon  a  card-playing,  wine- 
drinking  party,  and  accomplished  such  brilliant  re 
sults  that  the  effect  upon  the  country  was  electrical. 
Early  in  the  new  year,  he  swept  around  Princeton. 
When  Cornwallis  thought  he  heard  thunder,  an 
officer  said,  "  To  arms,  general !  Washington  has 
outgeneraled  us.  Let  us  fly  to  the  rescue  of  Prince 
ton  ?  "  The  mischief  was  done  and  the  rebel  chief 
beyond  pursuit.  As  he  was  so  elusive,  Lord  Dun- 
more,  his  old  companion,  planned  to  capture  his  wife 
and  lay  his  estate  in  ruins.  The  Virginia  militia 
rushed  to  arms,  and  the  scheme  failed. 

In  February,  1778,  Mrs.  Washington  joined  her 
husband  at  Valley  Forge.  She  wrote  her  daughter- 
in-law  :  "  The  general's  apartments  are  very  small ; 
he  has  had  a  log  cabin  built  for  a  dining-room,  which 
has  made  our  quarters  much  more  tolerable  than 
they  were  at  first."  Sometimes  the  only  food  was 
bacon  and  greens  served  on  tin  dishes.  Dinners 
were  conducted  with  as  much  ceremony  as  if  turtle 


LADY    WASHINGTON.  23 

soups,  canvas-back  ducks,  and  terrapin  were  served 
on  silver  plate  and  porcelain. 

Once  on  inviting  two  ladies  to  dine  at  headquarters, 
Washington  playfully  wrote  the  bill  of  fare,  lest  imag 
ination  might  stimulate  their  appetites  —  adding  how 
ever  that  when  his  cook  wishes  to  cut  a  figure  which 
he  will  do  in  honor  of  lady  guests,  he  tacks  a  beef 
steak  pie  and  a  dish  of  crabs  t6  the  menu,  all  to  be 
served  on  "  tin  plates  turned  to  iron,  but  not  by 
polishing." 

Late  one  October  night,  the  family  at  Mount  Ver- 
non  were  surprised  by  the  return  of  the  master. 
The  visit  was  a  hurried  and  busy  one.  It  was  the 
first  time  he  had  seen  the  grandchildren  of  his  wife, 
four  in  number.  He  was  on  his  way  to  join  Lafay 
ette  and  confront  Cornwallis  at  Yorktown.  The  sur 
render  was  the  next  great  act  in  the  drama,  and  very 
imposing  it  was.  The  French  provided  the  music. 
His  Majesty's  troops,  compelled  to  file  by  their  con 
querors  with  cased  colors,  were  sullen  and  angry,  and 
threw  down  their  arms  with  such  force  that  the 
greater  part  were  ruined.  To  the  grief  of  his  mother, 
the  stepson  of  Washington  followed  him  to  Yorktown 
as  aide-de-camp.  Every  day  a  courier  was  sent  from 
headquarters,  but  when  he  carried  the  glad  tidings  of 
surrender,  he  carried  dismay  to  the  heart  of  the 
mother  ;  her  only  son  was  lying  ill  of  camp  fever. 
She  and  the  young  wife  hurried  to  his  side  —  the 


24  LADY    WASHINGTON. 

coachman  was  bidden  not  to  spare  horses  that  day. 
They  came,  — thank  God,  he  was  alive  !  —  but  they 
could  only  speak  a  farewell  and  he  was  gone,  struck 
clown  in  the  prime  of  early  manhood  — just  twenty- 
eight. 

Washington  was  thought  to  be  many  miles  away, 
but  as  the  two  women  stood  bending  over  their  dead, 
he  walked  into  the  room.  He  was  ardently  attached 
to  the  young  man,  and  at  the  sight  of  his  dead  face, 
threw  himself  upon  a  sofa  and  sobbed  like  a  woman. 

To  console  his  wife,  he  adopted  the  two  younger 
children,  Eleanor  Custis  and  George  Washington 
Parke  Custis,  as  his  own. 

Their  mother  was  reluctant,  but  as  the  doors  of 
Mount  Vernon  were  to  be  open  to  herself  and  the 
older  children,  when  it  suited  her  to  be  there,  she 
yielded  consent. 

A  swift  horseman  sent  from  camp  reached  Phila 
delphia  at  two  in  the  morning.  Watchmen  tore 
through  the  streets  shouting,  "  Past  two  o'clock  and 
Cornwallis  is  taken."  Lights  flashed  from  the  win 
dows,  people  half  dressed  thronged  the  streets. 
They  fell  into  each  other's  arms  ;  could  it  be  true  ? 
One  man  died  of  joy.  The  old  bellman  hurried  to 
the  steeple,  the  militia  to  their  cannons,  and  the 
boys  kindled  bonfires.  The  horseman  sped  on  as 
if  he  were  on  the  wings  of  the  wind.  Every  town 
and  hamlet  in  the  land  had  its  celebration. 


LADY    WASHINGTON.  25 

Old  Lord  Fairfax,  who  had  remained  a  stanch 
Royalist,  said  to  his  servant,  "  Turn  me  to  the  wall, 
John  ;  it  is  time  for  me  to  die." 

The  news  crossed  the  ocean.  Lord  North  re 
ceived  it  as  if  he  were  shot  by  a  pistol,  threw  up 
his  arms,  exclaiming:  "Oh  God  !  it  is  all  over." 

Washington,  with  his  wife,  was  at  Newberg,  ready 
for  a  new  campaign  ;  but  British  statesmen  felt  as 
Lord  North,  that  all  was  over  and  peace  must  be 
granted.  The  treaty  was  signed  at  Paris  and  read  at 
the  head  of  the  brigades  of  the  American  army,  on 
the  nineteenth  of  April,  a  day  destined  to  be  memor 
able  in  the  annals  of  the  country.  The  army  was 
not  disbanded  until  the  English  and  Hessians  had 
sailed  for  home,  which  took  place  in  November.  In 
December,  Washington  resigned  his  commission  at 
Annapolis.  Mrs.  Washington  journeyed  from  Mount 
Vernon  to  meet  him,  and  Congress  gave  a  dinner 
and  a  ball  in  their  honor.  On  Christmas  Eve,  the 
proud  and  happy  wife  returned  to  Mount  Vernon  in 
company  with  its  master.  More  than  five  years 
were  spent  in  private  life ;  she  dispensed  the 
boundless  hospitalities  of  the  house  with  a  tact 
and  graciousness  which  charmed  her  guests.  Wash 
ington  would  say,  "  There  is  always  a  bit  of  mutton 
and  a  glass  of  wine  for  a  friend,"  and  the  warm  wel 
come  made  them  very  palatable. 

Washington    had    selected    the    site   of    the    city 


26  LADY    WASHINGTON. 

which  bears  his  name,  and  laid  the  corner  stone 
of  the  present  Capitol,  called  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  buildings  in  the  world.  His  chief  interest 
centred  in  the  progress  of  the  city.  From  the  first 
there  was  a  difficulty  in  purchasing  land,  the  owners 
holding  it  for  fabulous  prices  which  turned  the 
city  in  an  opposite  direction  from  that  originally 
intended,  and  accounts  for  the  Statue  of  Liberty  on 
the  dome  of  the  Capitol,  rather  turning  away  from 
the  city  than  towards  it. 

Washington  parleyed  with  Burns,  a  Scotchman, 
who  owned  a  large  tract  of  land,  and  pointed  out  the 
advantages  that  the  location  of  the  city  would  be  to 
his  property.  With  the  Scotch  indifference  to  the 
presence  of  power,  and  scorn  of  authority,  he  said  : 
"  I  suppose  you  think  folks  here  are  going  to  take 
every  grist  that  comes  frae  you  as  pure  meal ;  but 
who'd  you  a  ben,  sir,  and  where'd  you  a  ben,  sir,  ef 
you  hadn't  uv  married  the  Widder  Custis  ? "  If 
Washington  had  occasion  to  speak  of  him  after 
wards,  it  was  as  that  "  very  obstinate  man." 

Artists  and  sculptors  pressed  their  claims,  and  the 
great  man  had  to  pay  the  penalty  of  being  great. 
As  he  put  it,  he  was  at  first  as  restive  as  a  colt  is  of 
the  saddle  ;  the  next  time,  there  was  less  flouncing, 
but  now  no  dray  moves  more  readily  to  the  'thill 
than  he  does  to  the  painter's  chair.  The  best  like 
ness  of  Washington  is  said  to  be  the  one  called  the 


UNIVERSITY 

OF 


LADY    WASHINGTON.  2/ 

pitcher  portrait.  The  pitchers  were  imported  from 
England.  A  Philadelphia  gentleman  managed  to 
cleanly  separate  the  part  bearing  the  portrait  from 
the  pitcher.  It  was  handsomely  framed  and  sent  to 
Mount  Vernon  to  Judge  Washington,  a  nephew  who 
inherited  the  estate. 

Gifts  of  affection  and  appreciation  were  sent  the 
general  by  his  countrymen,  by  private  English 
gentlemen,  and  by  crowned  heads.  It  is  often 
claimed  in  the  present  day  that  the  greatness, 
especially  the  military  greatness  of  Washington  is 
overrated,  but  Frederick  the  Great  inscribed  upon 
his  gift  :  "  From  the  oldest  general  in  the  world  to 
the  greatest,"  and  there  was  never  any  mere  glamor 
of  sentiment  about  him. 

The  French  officers,  who  served  in  the  war,  gave 
Mrs.  Washington  a  set  of  Sevres  china.  Around 
the  outside  of  each  cup  and  tureen,  and  the  inside 
of  each  plate  and  saucer,  is  painted  a  chain  of  thir 
teen  large  links  and  thirteen  small  elliptical  links. 
Within  each  link  is  the  name  of  one  of  the  original 
thirteen  states.  Her  monogram  is  on  each  piece, 
enclosed  in  a  beautiful  green  wreath  of  laurel  and 
olive,  from  which  spread  rays  of  gold,  making  it  very 
brilliant. 

Again  the  country  called  for  the  wise  and  honored 
Washington  ;  this  time  to  be  the  head  of  civil  affairs, 
as  he  had  been  before  of  the  military. 


28  LADY    WASHINGTON. 

Mrs.  Washington  was  a  perfect  Virginian  house 
wife,  could  judiciously  direct  her  numerous  servants, 
could  receive  guests  with  amenity  and  grace,  and 
could  preside  with  dignity.  So  accustomed  had  she 
become  to  knitting  in  camp  for  the  soldiers,  that  the 
needles  were  rarely  out  of  her  hands.  She  was  as 
reluctant  to  leave  this  pleasant,  comfortable  life  as 
her  husband. 

She  tarried  a  month  after  his  departure.  Accom 
panied  by  the  grandchildren,  Miss  Nelly  and  Master 
George,  she  set  out  in  her  own  travelling  carriage, 
with  an  escort  of  horse,  to  join  her  husband  in  New 
York.  On  the  route,  bells  were  rung  and  cannons 
were  fired,  as  if  she  were  making  a  royal  progress. 

Washington  met  her  at  Elizabeth  ;  from  thence 
they  crossed  in  his  splendid  barge  presented  at  the 
inauguration,  manned  by  thirteen  master  pilots, 
dressed  in  white.  Thirteen  guns  were  fired  as  they 
rounded  the  battery.  Amid  deafening  cheers  and 
booming  cannon  she  stepped  into  the  presidential 
mansion,  "first  lady"  of  the  land.  It  was  not  a  role 
to  her  taste,  but  she  was  a  true  woman,  and  gloried 
in  her  husband's  honors,  and  meant  that  the  elegant 
etiquette  due  to  the  head  of  the  nation  should  be 
maintained. 

The  question  of  etiquette  in  this  new  court  was  a 
vexed  one.  John  Adams,  versed  in  the  glare  of  for 
eign  courts,  was  not  ready  to  cast  loose  from  royal 


LADY    WASHINGTON.  2Q 

titles  and  splendors,  thought  the  President  should 
only  be  interviewed  through  the  Minister  of  State. 
Jefferson  was  intolerant  of  any  style,  so  there  was  a 
din  at  the  outset.  Washington  said  he  was  neither 
master  of  himself  nor  of  his  house. 

It  was  decided  that  he  was  to  have  no  title  but 
that  of  President.  By  courtesy,  guests  addressed 
him,  as  "  Your  Excellency,"  and  his  wife  as  "  Lady 
Washington."  In  honor  of  her  arrival,  her  husband 
gave  a  dinner  party.  On  Friday,  and  every  succeed 
ing  Friday,  she  held  a  levee.  Her  doors  were  not 
easy  of  access,  and  a  certain  style  of  dress  was  re 
quired,  —  decollete  and  bare  arms,  swallow-tail  coats, 
ruffles  in  sleeves  and  shirt  fronts.  The  President's 
wife  sat,  while  others  stood.  There  was  no  shaking 
of  the  hands  ;  the  stiffness  and  formality  of  royalty 
prevailed.  The  hours  were  from  eight  to  ten.  If 
the  guests  failed  to  mark  the  time  on  the  tall  clock, 
by  very  plain  words  she  would  smilingly  dismiss 
them  :  "The  President  retires  at  ten,  and  I  usually 
precede  him." 

When  Mrs.  Washington  honored  one  with  a  call,  a 
footman  in  livery  was  sent  to  announce  her  coming  ; 
after  a  proper  interval  she  started,  accompanied  by  a 
gentleman  of  the  household.  Did  she  wish  to  take 
an  airing  with  Master  and  Miss  Custis,  the  fine, 
cream-colored  coach,  frescoed  with  Cupids  bearing 
festoons  of  flowers,  emblazoned  with  the  Washington 


30  LADY    WASHINGTON. 

arms,  imported  from  England,  with  six  bay  horses 
attached  (full-blooded  ones),  attended  by  outriders, 
was  brought  to  her  door ;  frequently,  the  President 
"exercised"  with  them. 

Mrs.  Washington  was  even  more  indulgent  with 
her  grandson  than  she  had  been  with  his  father. 
His  sister  would  say  :  "  Grandmamma  always  spoiled 
him."  His  daughter,  in  a  memoir,  said  :  "  Had  he 
been  under  sterner  discipline,  he  might  have  done 
more  for  his  own  and  for  his  country's  good." 

The  grandmother  was  very  fond  of  Nelly  Custis, 
but  somehow  she  seemed  to  think  a  thorough  training 
more  necessary  for  girls  than  for  boys.  Her  own 
daughter  had  never  needed  control,  was  all  gentleness 
and  docility,  but  this  Nelly  was  full  of  vivacity,  and 
had  a  will  of  her  own.  "  The  poor  girl,"  said  her 
brother,  "  would  play  and  cry,  and  cry  and  play,  for 
four  or  five  hours  a  day,  under  the  immediate  eye  of 
her  grandmother."  Then  her  lessons  must  be  scru 
pulously  learned. 

Washington  liked  to  exact  submission  to  thorough 
discipline  from  the  boy,  much  as  he  loved  him,  but 
for  this  girl  he  had  a  very  soft  spot  in  his  heart. 
There  were  the  same  family  jars  that  had  risen  in 
the  days  when  the  stepchildren  were  young. 

Washington  imported  a  harpsichord,  costing  one 
thousand  dollars,  hoping  its  elegance  would  make 
the  daily  practising  easier.  The  eight  official  years 


LADY    WASHINGTON.  3! 

were  spent,  and  the  public  life  ended.  Mrs.  Wash 
ington  called  them  the  ''lost  years"  of  her  life,  and 
the  President  said  he  had  lived  in  a  "hornet's  nest," 
and  yet,  he  added  indignantly,  they  said,  "  I  desired 
to  be  king." 

No  formal  regulations  had  then  been  made  as  to 
state  dinners,  but  Mrs.  Washington  decided  to  give  a 
large  party  the  day  before  the  close  of  the  adminis 
tration.  The  Listons,  Wolcotts,  Pickerings,  McHen- 
rys,  Cushings,  Binghams,  Adamses,  Jefferson,  were  all 
there,  with  the  foreign  ministers  and  their  wives,  and 
several  church  dignitaries.  On  the  removal  of  the 
cloth,  the  President  rose  quite  unexpectedly,  saying : 
"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  this  is  the  last  time  I  shall 
drink  your  health  as  a  public  man.  I  do  it  with  sin 
cerity,  wishing  you  all  possible  happiness."  Bishop 
White,  who  was  a  guest  and  described  the  scene, 
said  :  "  This  put  an  end  to  all  pleasantry,  and  forced 
tears  into  many  eyes." 

On  the  ninth  of  March  of  1797,  the  coach  with  its 
six  bay  horses,  flanked  by  outriders,  stood  at  the 
door  of  the  presidential  mansion.  General  and  Mrs. 
Washington,  Master  and  Miss  Curtis,  and  the  son  of 
Lafayette,  with  his  preceptor,  were  driven  to  Mount 
Vernon. 

Guests  were  more  numerous  than  ever ;  to  relieve 
himself,  Washington  invited  his  nephew,  Major  Lau 
rence  Lewis,  to  assist  in  entertaining  them,  espe- 


32  LADY    WASHINGTON. 

dally  evenings,  that  he  might  indulge  his  indination 
of  retiring  soon  after  candlelight. 

No  complaints  were  ever  made  that  young  Lau 
rence  neglected  his  duties,  but,  in  addition  to  them, 
he  found  time  to  hang  over  Miss  Nelly's  harpsichord, 
take  moonlight  walks  in  the  grounds,  and  whisper 
tales  that  her  grandmother  would  rather  that  she 
did  not  hear  from  his  lips.  There  was  a  frequent 
visitor  at  the  house,  and  if  he  whispered  the  same 
story,  and  Nelly  listened  with  a  beating  heart  and 
mantling  cheek,  there  would  be  no  harm  done.  The 
visitor  was  Charles  Carroll,  —  a  Carroll  of  Carrolton, 
—  travelled,  accomplished,  adorned  with  the  social 
graces  derived  from  a  sojourn  in  foreign  lands. 

Her  brother  joined  her  grandmother  in  singing 
the  young  man's  praises,  and  advocating  his  suit. 
Not  so  the  grandfather  ;  and  as  for  Miss  Nelly,  in 
the  proud  flush  of  her  seventeen  years  and  happy 
maidenhood,  she  didn't  mean  to  marry  anybody. 
She  liked  to  wander  in  the  woods  alone,  to  indulge 
in  "  meditations,  fancy  free."  Grandmamma  thought 
it  wrong  and  unsafe,  and  forbade  it.  Nelly's  incli 
nation  and  restive  disposition  led  her  out  in  the 
gloaming  again.  She  knew  she  was  in  the  wrong, 
and  listened  silently  to  a  severe  reprimand,  making 
no  excuses.  As  she  left  the  room,  she  heard  her 
grandfather  say,  "  My  dear,  I  would  say  no  more,  - 
perhaps  she  was  not  alone."  The  girl's  spirit  rose, 


LADY    WASHINGTON.  33 

she  turned  and  stood  before  him.  "  Sir,  you  brought 
me  up  to  speak  the  truth,  and  when  I  told  grand 
mamma  I  was  alone,  I  hope  you  believed  I  was 
alone." 

He  made  one  of  his  most  magnanimous  bows,  say 
ing  :  "  My  child,  I  beg  your  pardon." 

Before  Miss  Nelly's  decisive  plans  for  remaining 
single  had  fully  matured,  Major  Lewis  used  some 
sort  of  convincing  arguments,  which  induced  her  to 
change  her  mind. 

The  engagement  was  very  satisfactory  to  her 
grandfather,  and  he  celebrated  the  wedding,  which 
Miss  Nelly  arranged  should  be  on  his  birthday,  in 
old  Virginia  style.  She  planned  and  coaxed  in  vain, 
that  he  should  wear  the  gold-laced  uniform  adopted 
by  the  army  officers.  On  national  fete  days  he  wore 
the  continental  uniform,  and  he  would  appear  in  no 
other.  It  was  only  this  girl  bride  and  Light  Horse 
Harry  who  ever  took  liberties  with  the  dignified 
general.  Irving  relates  the  extreme  length  to  which 
the  latter  would  go  in  his  jokes;  he  was  one  day 
dining  at  Mount  Vernon  when 

"  Washington  mentioned  his  being  in  want  of 
carriage  horses,  and  asked  Lee  if  he  knew  where  he 
could  get  a  pair. 

"  '  I  have  a  fine  pair,  general,'  replied  Lee,  '  but 
you  cannot  get  them.' 

"  '  Why  not  ? ' 


34  LADY    WASHINGTON. 

"  '  Because  you  will  never  pay  more  than  half  price 
for  anything ;  and  I  must  have  full  price  for  my 
horses.' 

"The  bantering  reply  set  Mrs.  Washington  lauglr 
ing,  and  her  parrot  perched  beside  her  joined  in  the 
laugh.  The  general  took  this  familiar  assault  upon 
his  dignity  in  good  part.  '  Ah,  Lee,  you  are  a 
funny  fellow,'  he  said,  '  see,  that  bird  is  laughing 
at  you.'  ' 

The  year  which  began  with  wedding  bells  was  to 
end  in  dirges.  The  angel  who  had  entered  the  house 
so  many  times  before  was  even  now  spreading  its 
wings  to  bear  away  the  best  beloved.  The  blow  fell 
in  chill  December.  As  Mrs.  Washington  sat  at  the 
foot  of  the  bed,  fearing,  dreading  what  might  come, 
she  knew  it  had  come  by  the  looks  of  anguish  painted 
on  the  faces  of  those  about  her.  In  a  firm  and  col 
lected  voice  she  said,  "  Is  he  gone  ?  " 

Thrice  a  mother,  yet  childless  ;  twice  widowed,  is 
it  strange  that  she  said  :  "  'Tis  well,  all  is  now  over  ; 
I  shall  soon  follow  him  ;  I  have  no  more  trials  to 
pass  through."  She  rose,  looked  at  her  dead,  tot 
tered  to  the  door,  turned,  gave  a  last  look  and  never, 
in  the  thirty  months  left  to  her,  entered  the  room 
again. 

An  old  negro  servant  who  showed  the  house  to  a 
visitor  said:  "The  gen'al's  room  is  de  room  I  likes 
de  bes'  in  de  house."  The  bedstead,  a  little  table,  a 


LADY    WASHINGTON.  35 

secretary,  a  trunk,  his  leathern  chair  with  his  military 
cloak  thrown  over  it,  and  a  surveyor's  tripod,  are  all 
there  as  they  were  eighty-nine  years  ago.  "  Many 
wonders,"  said  the  servant,  "  why  Mrs.  Washington 
died  up  in  de  attic,  and  not  in  de  gen'al's  room.  It 
was  the  custom  in  de  family  to  shut  up  a  room  for 
two  years  after  a  death  had  happened  in  it,  an'  dis 
room  was  shut  up.  Mrs.  Washington  went  up  in  de 
attic  an'  dere  she  stayed  for  thirty  mu'n's,  till  she 
died  dere.  She  never  had  no  fire  in  de  winter,  an'  in 
de  summer  it  was  very  hot,  but  dere  she  stayed,  wif 
only  her  cat  fur  comp'ny." 

There  is  a  square  cut  from  the  lower  part  of  the 
door  for  the  use  of  this  companion.  Mrs.  Washing 
ton  fell  into  a  gentle  melancholy,  which  overshad 
owed  her  life,  till  she  felt  that  the  glad  summons  for 
which  she  longed  was  on  its  way.  Then  she  grew 
radiant,  blessing  those  to  be  left  behind,  and  bidding 
them  a  blissful  farewell. 

Born  in  the  fresh  springtime,  in  the  fresh  spring 
time  she  was  laid  by  the  side  of  our  Washington, 
who  had  made  her  name  immortal. 

Long  before  Washington's  death,  he  wished  to 
manumit  his  servants,  but  the  intermixture  by  mar 
riage  with  the  "dower  negroes"  made  it  impractica 
ble.  He  made  provision  in  his  will  that  upon  the 
death  of  his  wife,  they  should  have  their  freedom. 


3^  LADY    WASHINGTON. 

Mrs.  Washington  waived  her  right  of  dower,  and  the 
matter  was  settled  at  once. 

It  was  the  son  of  the  "  Lowland  Beauty,"  who  pro 
nounced  Washington's  eulogy,  made  memorable  by 
the  words  :  "  First  in  war,  first  in  peace,  first  in  the 
hearts  of  his  countrymen." 


MRS.  JOHN  ADAMS. 

THE  wife  of  the  first  President  of  these  United 
States  was  born  and  bred  in  the  purple ;  how  differ 
ent  the  birth  and  training  of  the  wife  of  the  second 
in  the  presidential  order. 

Miss  Abigail  Smith,  the  daughter  and  grand 
daughter  of  a  Congregationalist  clergyman,  was  born 
at  Weymouth,  Massachusetts. 

The  family  income  was  small,  every  dollar  must 
tell  its  full  hundred  cents.  Life  was  without  ser 
vants  ;  sons  must  be  educated,  but  for  the  girls  what 
mattered  it  ?  It  was  the  fashion  of  the  day  even  to 
ridicule  a  woman's  learning,  if  she  had  any.  Girls 
were  to  stay  by  the  hearthstone  and  bear  full  share 
of  the  household  burdens,  not  light  ones  when  the 
parson  tilled  a  farm  in  addition  to  his  parochial 
duties. 

Miss  Abigail  spent  the  greater  part  of  her  girlhood 
at  the  home  of  her  maternal  grandfather,  Colonel 
John  Quincy.  The  grandmother  was  the  daughter 
of  a  clergyman,  and  the  daily  life  was  maintained  in 
strict  conformity  with  the  austere  religion  of  a  hun 
dred  years  ago.  However,  the  girl  had  no  frivolity 
about  her,  and  the  grandmother's  heart  was  very 

37 


38  MRS.    JOHN    ADAMS. 

loving.  Her  lessons  on  frugality  and  piety,  she  ad 
mits,  made  a  deeper  impression  on  her  mind  than 
those  of  her  own  parents. 

Books  were  few,  but  what  were  to  be  found  in  the 
homes  to  which  she  had  access  were  standard. 
Eagerly  did  the  young  girl  read  all  that  came  in  her 
way ;  that  she  stored  carefully  what  she  read  is 
shown  by  her  free  use  of  quotations  ;  at  times  she 
seems  almost  pedantic.  Homes  were  widely  scat 
tered,  means  too  narrow  for  journeying,  therefore 
little  intercourse  could  be  had,  save  by  letter  writing. 

She  seemed  fanciful  about  her  signature.  As  a 
girl,  she  was  Diana  ;  perhaps  after  her  marriage,  she 
thought  it  not  fit  to  bear  the  name  of  one  vowed  to 
maidenhood,  for  she  assumed  that  of  Portia,  maybe, 
as  better  fitted  to  her  prudence,  courage,  and  con- 
gugal  fidelity. 

This  apparently  isolated  young  girl,  never  sent  to 
any  school,  always  in  ill-health,  spent  a  happy, 
joyous  life,  and  in  those  days  of  her  solitary  girl 
hood,  if  denied  music  and  dancing,  acquired  that 
habit  of  easy  letter  writing  which  has  given  her  a 
wider  literary  celebrity  than  that  of  any  of  her  suc 
cessors  in  the  presidential  mansion.  Her  letters 
were  written  in  those  stormy  days  when  household 
items  tell  so  much. 

Those  who  have  time  to  read  Bancroft  can  know 
all  American  history,  but  to  every  woman's  heart  is 


MRS.    JOHN    ADAMS.  39 

dear  the  way  women  fought  the  battle  of  life  in 
those  troublous  days,  and  how  charmingly  she  tells 
the  story  in  her  family  letters,  describes  events, 
notes  a  thousand  things  that  would  have  escaped  a 
man's  eye. 

When  Miss  Smith  was  nineteen,  John  Adams, 
the  son  of  a  poor  farmer,  a  lawyer  by  profession, 
who,  if  laurels  were  to  be  won,  had  yet  to  begin 
the  strife,  came  to  the  parsonage  a  wooing.  He 
won  the  heart  of  the  girl,  but  the  parson  father  and 
the  parson  grandfather  looked  coldly  on  the  suit. 
In  those  days,  parsons  held  their  heads  high.  The 
Pope  of  to-day  can  hardly  be  more  absolute  in  the 
church  than  was  a  New  England  parson,  in  colonial 
days,  in  his  own  parish.  Her  sisters  were  thought 
to  be  better  mated,  and  our  heroine  losing  caste  by 
uniting  with  one  whose  calling,  if  not  rascally,  was 
surely  not  above  suspicion. 

Parishioners  in  country  districts  usually  think  that 
when  they  hire  a  parson,  the  wife  and  children  are 
something  thrown  in  as  makeweights,  upon  whom 
they  have  a  claim,  and  over  whom  they  have  some 
control.  If  parsons  walk  a  little  awry,  if  the  sons 
have  a  few  wild  oats  to  sow  —  such  things  may 
perhaps  be  condoned,  but  woe  to  the  wives  and 
daughters,  if  off  the  common  track. 

The  eldest,  Miss  Mary,  had  married  an  English 
immigrant,  who  had  not  then  risen  to  the  height 


4O  MRS.    JOHN    ADAMS. 

to  which  he  in  after  years  attained  —  Judge  of   the 
Court  of  Common  Pleas  in  Massachusetts. 

Miss  Elizabeth  had  married  a  parson,  Reverend 
John  Shaw,  settled  in  Haverhill,  Massachusetts. 
Hymen's  torch  was  lighted  for  her  a  second  time 
by  Reverend  Mr.  Peabody,  of  Atkinson,  New  Hamp 
shire. 

Here  was  Miss  Abigail  throwing  herself  away  on 
a  young  man  of  blue  blood  very  much  paler  than 
her  own,  who  refused  to  till  the  ground  as  his 
fathers  had  done  before  him,  but  had  signed  away 
his  patrimony  that  he  might  take  a  course  at  Har 
vard,  and  then  forsooth,  he  could  put  his  learning 
to  no  better  use  than  standing  up  before  twelve 
men  and  trying  to  make  black  appear  white,  and 
white  appear  black.  It  was  scandalous  !  What  was 
the  parson  thinking  about  ? 

The  objections  of  the  ancestral  parsons  gave  way 
to  the  pleadings  of  the  young  people,  and  before 
the  twentieth  birthday,  the  parson  father  had  per 
formed  the  marriage  ceremony  and  bestowed  his 
blessing,  and  a  married  home  was  set  up  in  Brain- 
tree. 

However,  the  disaffected  busybodies  of  the  parish 
should  have  a  quietus  from  the  pulpit.  The  text 
was,  "  For  John  came,  neither  eating  bread  nor 
drinking  wine,  and  ye  say  he  hath  a  devil."  At 
the  marriage  of  Miss  Mary,  two  years  earlier,  he 


MRS.    JOHN    ADAMS.  4! 

had  preached  from  the  text,  "And  Mary  hath 
chosen  that  good  part,  which  shall  not  be  taken 
away  from  her." 

Ten  years  of  happy,  wedded  life  passed,  partly 
in  Braintree,  partly  in  Boston,  according  as  her 
husband's  impaired  health  or  professional  duties 
required.  The  greatest  anxiety  was  to  lay  the 
foundations  of  a  competency  for  age,  and  for  the 
rearing  of  the  children.  When  away  on  his  court 
circuit  he  would  write  to  his  wife  of  the  necessity 
of  cultivating  the  farm  and  attending  to  the  stock 
and  dairy,  rather  unnecessary  to  one  trained  as  she 
had  been,  none  of  your  modern  blue-stockings,  too 
absorbed  in  her  classical  learning  to  be  a  practical 
housewife. 

Without  her,  maybe,  he  might  have  been  a  bit 
of  a  spendthrift,  for  when  his  law  business  is 
brought  to  a  standstill  by  the  Stamp  Act,  he  be 
wails  that  he  has  spent  an  "estate  in  books," 
bought  a  pew  and  a  house  in  Boston.  He  had  not 
then  risen  to  the  high  plane  of  patriotism,  which 
later  on  his  feet  so  fearlessly  trod,  for  we  read  of 
his  taking  sides  against  the  incensed  people  who 
had  destroyed  the  furniture  of  the  stamp  distributor, 
and  attacked  the  house  of  Governor  Hutchinson. 

As  no  law  business  can  be  done,  he  thinks  he 
must  become  foreman  on  his  own  farm  and  school 
master  to  his  own  children. 


42  MRS.    JOHN    ADAMS. 

With  the  New  England  thrift,  there  was  never  a 
bit  of  sordid  meanness  in  the  man.  Once  lodging 
with  a  friend,  he  tells  his  Portia  that  he  gave  pista- 
reens  enough  to  servants  and  children  to  pay  his 
charge  twice  over.  He  was  a  dear  lover  of  the  cup 
that  cheers,  and  he  wrote  of  asking  a  country  wo 
man,  if  she  would  make  him  a  dish,  provided  it  had 
been  "  honestly  smuggled  and  no  duties  paid." 

"  No,  sir,  we  have  renounced  all  tea  in  this  place, 
but  I  '11  make  you  a  cup  of  coffee,"  was  the  answer. 

The  same  letter  said,  "  For  God's  sake  make  your 
children  industrious,  for  activity  and  industry  will 
be  their  only  resource  and  dependence." 

A  change  is  coming  over  the  spirit  of  his  dream, 
the  practical  business  man,  so  thoughtful  for  his 
future,  and  for  his  children,  is  merging  into  a  poli 
tician  and  a  zealous  patriot ;  no  half-way  measures 
with  John  Adams.  Even  Otis  said,  "  His  zeal-pot 
boils  over." 

Great  political  anxiety  was  felt  throughout  the 
country.  The  other  colonies  heard  the  m titterings 
of  the  storm,  raised  by  North's  shortsightedness  and 
George  III.'s  obstinacy,  but  in  Massachusetts  the 
tempest  raged.  Otis  and  Samuel  Adams  had 
sounded  the  trumpet  of  revolution  and  made  stir 
ring  speeches  against  the  Stamp  Act. 

Blood  had  been  shed  on  Boston  Common.  A 
cargo  of  tea,  upon  which  the  English  government 


MRS.    JOHN    ADAMS.  43 

levied  a  tax,  was  tossed  into  the  sea.  The  port  of 
Boston  was  closed. 

Mr.  Adams  left  his  wife,  with  four  young  children, 
in  a  lonely  country  house  to  go  to  Philadelphia,  to 
take  counsel  with  the  other  colonies.  No  lack  of 
encouragement  for  bold  daring  and  mighty  deeds 
in  her  epistles.  She  bids  him  beware  of  the  way  in 
which  Sparta  lost  her  liberty  —  she  was  like  the 
women  of  that  country,  she  wanted  her  husband 
with  his  shield,  or  upon  it.  She  gives  him  Polybius's 
views  upon  peace  and  liberty.  She  expects  great 
and  immediate  results  from  this  first  united  Con 
gress.  It  is  late  in  August  now,  and  she  hopes 
that  the  first  of  September  will  be  of  as  much  im 
portance  to  Great  Britain  as  the  Ides  of  March 
were  to  Caesar. 

In  the  midst  of  all  this  classical  budget,  the  loving 
heart  of  the  wife  and  mother  shone  forth.  He  has 
been  absent  from  her  sicle  but  a  week  and  a  day, 
and  she  counts  it  months.  She  must  have  some 
amusement  to  while  away  his  absence,  and  she  has 
fixed  upon  Rollin's  Ancient  History,  as  the  kind 
that  will  best  conduce  to  it.  She  has  little  Johnny, 
seven  years  old,  read  a  couple  of  pages  a  day,  lest 
he  too  may  miss  papa,  and  she  hopes  that  such 
small  closes,  taken  to  while  away  the  time,  may  give 
him  a  fondness  for  the  book.  He  was  a  very  pecu 
liar  boy,  so  possibly  it  did. 


44  MRS.    JOHN    ADAMS. 

Nineteenth-century  scholars  tell  us  that  in  the 
light  of  recent  excavations  and  deciphered  hiero 
glyphics,  Rollin's  account  of  the  Ancients  is  very 
wide  of  the  mark ;  but  as  Washington  Irving  said  : 
"  It  matters  not,  if  things  thousands  of  years  ago 
were  not  as  they  are  written,  if  we  only  believe  they 
were  so." 

This  modern  knowledge  is  apt  to  unsettle  one's 
brain.  Shakespeare  didn't  write,  Tell  didn't  shoot, 
Joan  didn't  burn,  and  at  Christmastide  the  clergy 
men  unite  to  teach  the  children  that  even  Santa 
Claus  is  a  myth. 

Where  ignorance  is  bliss,  isn't  it  folly  to  be  so 
wise  ? 

Eighteen  days  from  home,  Mr.  Adams  was 
within  forty-two  miles  of  Philadelphia.  He  wrote 
his  wife,  that  it  would  take  a  volume  to  describe 
the  journey.  He  is  charmed  with  the  amusement 
that  she  has  provided  "for  our  little  Johnny,"  and 
he  hopes  to  hear  a  good  account  of  his  "accidence 
and  nomenclature,"  on  his  return.  It  is  time  to 
teach  him  and  the  younger  children,  French. 

Mr.  Adams  returned  to  Braintree  in  October,  but 
in  the  spring,  counsels  were  again  held,  and  again 
that  perilous  horseback  ride  to  Philadelphia  was 
taken.  When  he  was  at  Hartford,  five  days  from 
home,  a  swift  courier  rode  through  the  town  telling 
the  story  of  Concord  and  Lexington.  Full  of  anx- 


MRS.    JOHN    ADAMS.  45 

iety  for  wife  and  children,  he  sped  on  his  way,  writ 
ing  back,  if  danger  threatened  her  home,  to  take 
to  the  woods  with  the  little  ones.  Heroic  advice 
in  the  month  of  April,  but  he  knew  the  mettle  of 
the  woman  to  whom  he  proffered  it. 

The  state  of  affairs  was  very  serious.  Guards 
were  regularly  kept,  lest  there  might  be  a  descent 
upon  the  sea-coast.  The  woman  ma.de  but  little 
complaint,  but  there  is  a  touching  pathos  in  the 
letter  written  just  after  he  left,  "I  tried  to  be  in 
sensible  and  heroic,  yet  my  heart  felt  like  a  heart  of 
lead.  Every  line  from  you  is  like  a  precious  relic 
of  the  saints."  When  he  reaches  the  "  far  country," 
she  begs  him  to  send  her  some  pins,  even  if  they 
be  ten  dollars  per  package. 

Her  house  was  one  scene  of  confusion,  soldiers 
came  for  lodging,  for  breakfast,  for  supper,  for 
drink,  etc.  Refugees  from  Boston,  anxious  and  fa 
tigued,  sought  an  asylum  for  a  day,  a  night,  a  week, 
and  her  doors  were  open  to  all,  and  what  hospitality 
her  scanty  means  allowed  was  given  with  right 
good-will.  Whortleberries  and  milk  were  often  the 
only  food  in  the  house. 

From  Penn's  Hill,  Mrs.  Adams  watched  the  battle 
of  Bunker  Hill,  the  burning  of  Charlestown,  and 
daily  looked  for  the  destruction  of  Boston,  but  the 
woman's  heart  never  quailed,  though  she  wrote, 
"The  constant  roar  of  the  cannon  is  so  distressing 


46  MRS.    JOHN    ADAMS. 

that  we  cannot  eat,  drink,  or  sleep.  We  hear  that 
the  troops  destined  for  New  York  are  all  expected 
here,  but  we  have  got  to  that  pass  that  a  whole 
legion  of  them  would  not  intimidate  us." 

The  remarkable  Johnny  gives  an  account  of  the 
times,  — 

"The  year  1775,  was  the  eighth  year  of  my 
age.  .  .  .  For  the  space  of  twelve  months  my 
mother,  with  her  infant  children,  dwelt  liable  every 
hour  of  the  day  and  of  the  night  to  be  butchered 
in  cold  blood  —  of  being  consumed  with  them  all  in 
a  conflagration,  kindled  by  a  torch  in  the  same 
hands  which,  on  the  Seventeenth  of  June,  lighted 
the  fires  of  Charlestown.  I  saw  with  my  own  eyes 
those  fires  from  Penn's  Hill,  and  witnessed  the  tears 
of  my  mother  and  mingled  with  them  my  own  at 
the  fall  of  Warren,  a  dear  friend  of  my  father,  and 
a  beloved  physician  to  me.  He  had  been  our  family 
physician  and  surgeon,  and  had  saved  my  forefinger 
from  amputation  under  a  very  bad  fracture." 

Before,  there  had  been  only  strife  and  bickerings 
with  the  mother  country ;  occasionally,  an  humble 
remonstrance  was  laid  at  the  foot  of  the  throne,  but 
now  Americans  were  rebels,  rebels  in  arms,  who, 
as  Franklin  wittily  put  it,  "  must  all  hang  together 
or  all  hang  separately." 

Early  in  July,  Washington  drew  his  sword  beneath 
the  Cambridge  elm.  In  these  days  when  it  is 


MRS.    JOHN    ADAMS.  47 

almost  the  fashion  to  smile  at  the  veneration  in 
which  Washington  was  held,  to  express  grave 
doubts  of  his  being  either  a  soldier  or  a  states 
man,  it  is  pleasant  to  note  the  favorable  impression 
he  made  upon  a  woman  like  Mrs.  Adams.  "  I  was 
struck  with  General  Washington.  You  had  pre 
pared  me  to  entertain  a  favorable  opinion  of  him, 
but  I  thought  the  half  was  not  told  me." 

A  quotation  hoarded  up  in  her  mind,  slips  from 
her  lips,  — • 

"  Mark  his  majestic  fabric ;  he's  a  temple 
Sacred  by  birth,  and  built  by  hands  divine; 
His  soul's  the  deity  that  lodges  there ; 
Nor  is  the  pile  unworthy  of  the  god." 

Most  of  the  time  for  more  than  three  years  did 
Mr.  Adams  sit  at  the  council-board  at  Philadelphia. 
What  Mrs.  Adams  wrote  him  was  worse  than  war, — 
was  the  pestilence  which  followed  in  its  train. 
Some  in  every  household  were  prostrated ;  some 
families  stripped  of  every  member.  For  four  weeks 
even  the  churches  were  closed.  Five  members  of 
her  own  family  were  ill  at  one  time  ;  three  died,  one 
of  whom  was  her  own  mother.  This  was  a  severe 
trial  for  the  heroic  woman,  and  her  heart  went  out 
to  her  husband  with  a  cry  of  anguish. 

At  such  a  time  her  heart  craves  something  more 
than  politics,  than  talks  of  the  sagacity  of  Newton 
and  Locke,  or  the  valor,  bravery,  and  courage  of  the 
Saracens  and  the  Knights  of  Malta.  She  asks  for 


48  MRS.    JOHN    ADAMS. 

some  "sentimental  effusion  of  the  heart."  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Adams  never  indulged  in  any  more  endearing 
epithet  than  that  of  "  my  dearest  friend."  If  the 
little  ones  loved  papa  their  warmest  word  for 
expressing  it  was,  "respect." 

Early  in  1776,  Mr.  Adams  joined  Congress  for 
the  third  time.  In  his  youth  he  had  hesitated 
whether  to  choose  the  army,  the  church,  or  the 
law  for  a  profession.  The  army  had  been  his 
choice,  but  he  had  been  unable  to  obtain  a  com 
mission  ;  now  as  he  sees  troops  raised,  and  leaving 
for  the  North,  his  martial  spirit  rekindles,  and  he 
writes  his  wife  that  if  an  emergency  come,  he  will 
not  fail  to  march,  even  if  it  be  with  rank  and  file. 

By  his  absence  at  this  time,  we  have  an  interest- 
in"*  account  of  the  evacuation  of  Boston  from  the 

£> 

facile  pen  of  Portia.  Unlike  any  other  woman,  she 
is  not  elated,  not  even  pleased  ;  rather  mourns  that 
the  cooped  redcoats  have  slipped  through  our  fin 
gers  ;  would  rather  that  there  had  been  a  meeting 
at  Philippi  of  which  the  ghost  of  Caesar  told  Brutus. 
However,  she  thought  Washington  might  say  -with 
out  boasting  "  Vcni,  vidi,  vici" 

In  the  midst  of  these  stirring  times,  she  is  amused 
at  her  husband's  Latin  couplets,  and  thinks  that  his 
daughter,  ten  years  old,  may  construe  (she  can't 
herself)  as  she  has  already  made  "  some  considerable 
proficiency  in  her  accidence." 


MRS.    JOHN    ADAMS.  49 

Mr.  Adams  returned  home  in  October  and  re 
mained  three  months.  On  reaching  Fishkill,  New 
York,  on  his  way  back,  he  wrote  that  his  journey 
had  been  like  that  of  "  Hannibal's  over  the  Alps." 
It  does  one  good  to  read  that  "if  he  could  take  his 
wife  to  Philadelphia  he  should  be  as  happy  as  a 
bridegroom."  Not  that  one  can  doubt  their  affec 
tion,  only  one  can  but  smile  at  their  formal  way  of 
expressing  it.  Repeatedly,  she  asked  him  to  burn 
her  letters  ;  had  he  done  so,  how  much  we  should 
have  lost,  even  if  she  be  at  times  a  little  beyond  us. 

In  the  autumn  of  1777,  Mr.  Adams  came  home  to 
resume  his  law  practice  ;  in  less  than  a  month  he 
was  chosen  commissioner  to  France  with  advice  to 
weight  his  despatch-bags,  ready  to  sink  if  captured. 
If  taken,  he  would  be  but  a  traitor,  and  the  statute 
against  treason  was  death.  With  streaming  eyes, 
the  noble  wife  counselled  him  to  do  his  duty.  This 
time  she  was  doubly  lonely,  for  Johnnie,  her  oldest 
boy,  her  "little  post-rider,"  the  man  of  the  house, 
sailed  away  with  his  father. 

The  surrender  of  Burgoyne,  united  with  the  influ 
ence  of  Franklin  and  Lafayette,  had  induced  France 
to  acknowledge  the  independence  of  the  colonies,  to 
assist  in  which  was  the  object  of  Mr.  Adams's  mis 
sion. 

He  felt  stranded,  was  puzzled  what  to  do  ;  "  I 
cannot  eat  pensions  and  sinecures ;  they  would 


50  MRS.    JOHN    ADAMS. 

choke  me."  Months  go  on  and  spring  comes 
round  ;  and  he  has  had  to  submit  to  the  choking. 
At  last  came  the  news  that  Franklin  alone  was  to 
represent  America  at  the  French  court,  but  he 
indignantly  exclaimed,  "  They  never  so  much  as 
bid  me  come  home,  bid  me  stay,  or  told  me  I  had 
done  well  or  done  ill." 

It  is  amusing  to  see  how  Franklin  tried  and  vexed 
the  methodical  New  England  lawyer.  In  his  eyes, 
the  office  of  the  embassy  was  all  in  confusion,  — 
important  papers  lying  about,  no  books  kept,  no 
time  given  to  business  ;  the  doctor  seemed  to  be 
always  dining  out,  hobnobbing  with  the  court,  not 
only  embracing  ladies,  but  actually  embraced  by 
them.  It  was  all  true.  Yet  Franklin  always 
inspired  confidence.  By  his  tact,  wit,  humor,  and 
genial  ways  he  could  accomplish  an  immense  amount 
of  diplomatic  business,  form  treaties,  negotiate  loans, 
and  bring  French  statesmen  to  his  views,  while  the 
precise,  hard-working,  irascible  John  Adams,  always 
treading  upon  some  one's  toes,  was  constantly  giving 
offence,  and  was  snubbed  by  the  officials  with  whom 
he  had  to  deal. 

After  eighteen  months  of  perplexity  and  dissatis 
faction,  he  was  again  upon  the  farm  at  Braintree, 
ready  to  draw  writs  and  deeds,  and  harangue  juries. 

Two  months  later,  he  was  ordered  to  Europe  a 
second  time,  to  attempt  to  treat  with  Great  Britain, 


MRS.    JOHN    ADAMS.  5  I 

and  end  the  war.  In  obedience,  he  sailed  in  Novem 
ber,  taking  not  only  Johnny,  but  the  second  son, 
Charles. 

"  My  habitation,  how  disconsolate  it  looks ;  my 
table,  I  sit  down  to  it,  but  cannot  swallow  my 
food ; "  moaned  the  wife  and  mother.  When  the 
separation  had  stretched  to  three  weary  years,  she 
was  asked  if  she  would  have  given  her  consent,  if 
she  could  have  foreseen  the  time. 

"  Yes,  if  need  be,  thrice  three  years,  to  have  him 
do  what  he  has  for  his  country,"  was  her  answer. 
She  was  a  true  Portia. 

The  Treaty  of  Peace  was  signed,  but  Mr.  Adams's 
return  was  still  uncertain,  and  he  sent  for  his  wife  to 
join  him. 

After  some  hesitation,  she  sailed  with  her  daugh 
ter  in  a  merchant  vessel.  Her  letters  give  us  a  vivid 
description  of  what  an  ocean  voyage  was  in  the 
days  before  James  Watt  had  watched  the  nose  of  a 
tea-kettle. 

After  a  residence  of  nine  months  in  Auteuil,  four 
miles  from  Paris,  Mr.  Adams  was  appointed  Minister 
to  England ;  not  a  pleasant  position,  for  the  spirit  of 
the  King  rankled  over  the  loss  of  his  colonies,  and  he 
treated  the  new  ambassador  with  marked  coldness, 
and  the  court  circle  followed  the  lead  of  royalty.  Our 
Republican  minister  preserved  his  dignity  and  manly 
independence.  In  the  first  interview,  when  the  King 


52  MRS.    JOHN    ADAMS. 

would  have  him  commit  himself  in  regard  to  France, 
he  made  the  naive  remark  which  has  become  famous 
in  history :  "  I  must  avow  to  Your  Majesty  that  I 
have  no  attachment  but  to  my  own  country." 

Mrs.  Adams  was  made  anxious  by  the  thought 
that  she  had  the  social  repute  of  her  countrywomen 
to  answer  for.  At  her  presentation,  the  Queen  was 
haughtily  cool,  and  nothing  but  the  duty  of  her  posi 
tion  could  have  induced  her  to  repeat  her  visit  to  St. 
James.  She  wrote  her  sister  :  "  Years  hence  it  may 
be  a  pleasure  to  reside  here  as  an  American  minister, 
but  with  the  present  temper  of  the  English,  no  one 
need  envy  the  embassy."  The  keenness  of  her  re 
sentment  is  shown  by  her  remark  years  later,  when 
the  French  Revolution  shook  the  British  throne, 
"Humiliation  for  Charlotte  will  be  no  sorrow  for 
me." 

It  was  some  time  before  the  Puritan  children, 
brought  up  on  the  secluded  farm  at  Braintree,  taking 
part  in  the  domestic  duties,  taught  to  be  seen  and 
not  heard,  could  become  accustomed  to  the  servants, 
the  pomp,  and  the  expense  of  living  at  Paris  and 
London.  Miss  Abigail,  the  only  daughter,  was  pre 
sented  to  Louis  XVI.  and  Marie  Antoinette,  who 
treated  her  with  gracious  sweetness. 

Presented  at  St.  James,  she  shared  with  her 
mother,  the  cold  British  stare  of  Queen  Charlotte 
and  her  ladies.  Little  cared  the  American  maiden  ; 


MRS.    JOHN    ADAMS.  53 

the  days  were  halcyon  ones  for  her.  She  had  met 
and  loved  Colonel  William  Stephens  Smith,  and  he 
had  asked  her  to  be  his  wife  ;  he  had  been  aide-de 
camp  to  Washington,  and  now  was  secretary  of  the 
legation.  She  was  married  in  London  and  her  mar 
riage  endowed  her  with  her  mother's  maiden  name. 
The  marriage  proved  rather  unhappy,  and  was  a 
great  source  of  grief  to  her  parents.  She  died  at 
forty-eight,  leaving  several  children.  Johnny  or  John 
Quincy  as  he  was  now  called,  had  been  chosen 
private  secretary  to  Mr.  Dana,  Minister  to  Russia, 
had  travelled  extensively  in  Europe,  and  studied  in 
Paris.  He  returned  to  America  before  the  family, 
that  he  might  graduate  from  Harvard. 

In  the  spring  of  1788,  Mr.  Adams  resigned,  and 
returned  to  his  village  home.  A  few  months  later, 
he  was  chosen  vice-president. 

For  eight  years,  Mrs.  Adams  lived  at  the  capital, 
first  at  New  York,  then  at  Philadelphia,  and  was  one 
of  the  social  leaders  of  her  day. 

She  was  rather  of  the  Minerva  type,  and  inclined, 
after  the  custom  of  her  people,  to  return  thanks  that 
she  had  no  part  in  anything  not  New  England. 

It  was  said  that  when  her  New  England  frigidity 
gave  way  and  kindled  into  enthusiasm,  it  was  not 
like  light  straw  on  fire,  but  red-hot  steel. 

At  the  resignation  of  Washington,  Mr.  Adams 
was  chosen  President  ;  and  now  the  daughter  of  the 


54  MRS.    JOHN    ADAMS. 

village  clergyman  and  the  wife  of  the  village  lawyer 
was  "  first  lady  "  at  the  Republican  court. 

Mr.  Adams's  administration  was  unpopular.  The 
Alien  and  Sedition  laws  proved  a  fruitful  source  of 
contention  and  bitter  feeling.  They  were  not  the 
product  of  his  brain,  but  he  did  not  veto  or  even  op 
pose  them  ;  therefore,  the  obloquy  of  them  rested 
upon  him. 

Louis  Sixteenth  and  Marie  Antoinette  had  perished 
by  the  guillotine,  and  there  was  a  new  order  of  gov 
ernment  in  France. 

Talleyrand,  the  excommunicated  Bishop  of  Autun, 
was  the  tricky  minister  for  Foreign  Affairs  to  the 
Directory.  In  the  arrogance  of  power,  he  treated 
American  ministers  with  contempt,  —  refused  them 
audience,  covertly  asking  for  a  bribe.  The  gentle 
men  were  not  wanting  in  spirit,  threw  scorn  into 
their  answer.  "  Millions  for  defence,  but  not  a  cent 
for  tribute,"  said  Pinckney.  That  ended  negotia 
tions  and  the  American  Embassy  in  France  ;  our 
flag  was  insulted  on  the  high  seas,  and  new  depreda 
tions  were  made  on  our  commerce. 

Mr.  Adams  took  the  initiative  in  war  measures, 
and  the  people  were  so  hot  to  avenge  the  insults, 
that  for  a  time  he  rode  high  on  the  wave  of  popular 
favor.  Washington  was  chosen  commander-in-chief, 
and  all  were  breathless  for  the  next  move  in  the 
game.  It  came  from  an  unexpected  quarter ;  the 


MRS.   JOHN    ADAMS.  55 

wily  Talleyrand  threw  out  hints  that  he  would  meet 
half-way  measures.  Adams  knew  peace  to  be  the 
best  policy  for  the  country,  and  was  patriotic  enough 
to  eat  his  words  and  swallow  his  pride.  However, 
the  Directory  was  at  an  end ;  Talleyrand  had  resigned 
and  when  American  ministers  negotiated  again,  it 
was  with  Napoleon.  The  war  cloud  had  rolled  away. 

Before  the  inauguration,  Mrs.  Adams  had  been 
attacked  by  intermittent  fever,  which  had  so  im 
paired  her  health,  that  she  spent  much  of  the  time 
on  the  home  farm. 

The  new  city  of  Washington  had  been  laid  out, 
and  in  1800,  the  Capitol  and  White  House,  so  long 
building,  were  ready  for  occupancy. 

Mrs.  Adams,  travelling  by  the  way  of  Baltimore, 
joined  her  husband.  Her  account  of  the  journey  is 
very  amusing.  They  lost  their  way  in  the  woods, 
retraced  their  steps,  and  wandered  two  hours  with 
out  finding  a  guide  or  the  path.  Finally,  a  straggling 
negro  came  up  and  extricated  them  from  their  diffi 
culty. 

The  Executive  Mansion  she  called  a  palace, — it 
must  have  been  a  palace  with  miserable  surroundings. 
It  had  not  then  even  the  rough  fence  and  turnstile 
which  later,  Tom  Moore  wrote  his  mother,  stood  in 
front  of  the  President's  home. 

Inaugurating  housekeeping,  Mrs.  Adams  found  to 
be  a  very  difficult  task,  —  thirty  servants  required, 


56  MRS.    JOHN    ADAMS. 

and  not  a  bell  in  the  house  —  no  means  of  heating 
or  lighting  the  large  establishment,  and  ladies  clam 
oring  for  a  drawing-room.  On  New  Year's  Day, 
1801,  she  held  it  with  all  the  formality  and  etiquette 
of  royalty.  The  east  room  was  unfinished,  and  used 
as  a  drying  room  for  the  weekly  washing.  The 
reception  was  held  in  the  oval  room  directly  over  it. 
Except  on  state  occasions,  Mrs.  Adams  was  less  cere 
monious  than  Mrs.  Washington,  and  scrupulously 
returned  visits  like  any  other  lady  —  "yesterday  I 
returned  fifteen  visits,"  she  triumphantly  wrote  her 
daughter.  After  a  residence  of  four  months  she 
went  to  her  home  in  Braintree,  or  rather  Quincy,  for 
the  name  of  the  town  had  been  changed  in  honor  of 
Hon.  Josiah  Quincy. 

Mr.  Adams  was  crushed  with  shame  and  filled  with 
indignation,  when  his  old  friend,  Thomas  Jefferson, 
defeated  him  in  the  presidential  election.  He  even 
lost  his  dignity.  From  motives  of  delicacy,  Jefferson 
did  not  call  for  several  clays  ;  when  he  did,  Mr. 
Adams,  for  greeting,  exclaimed,  "  You've  turned  me 
out!  you've  turned  me  out!"  —it  was  petty,  if  meant 
for  vengeance.  What  was  worse,  and  called  uncourte- 
ous,  on  March  third,  he  sat  until  the  clock  was  on 
the  stroke  of  twelve,  making  appointments,  which 
were  termed  the  "  midnight  appointments."  A  new 
law  had  given  him  the  power,  and  he  had  wielded  it 
with  personal  hatred  and  partisan  rage,  which  cost 


MRS.    JOHN    ADAMS.  57 

him  the  respect  of  many  friends,  and  embittered  his 
enemies. 

The  government  was  too  new  to  say  what  was  the 
custom,  but  Washington  had  established  the  cour 
teous  precedent  of  riding  with  him  to  the  Capitol, 
lisening  to  his  inaugural,  and  congratulating  him 
when  he  had  taken  the  oath  of  office. 

Then,  the  retiring  President  was  the  hero  of  the 
day,  but  to  play  a  second  part  in  the  inauguration  of 
a  successor  was  beyond  the  magnanimity  of  John 
Adams. 

Before  sunrise,  he  was  in  the  saddle,  and  rode  away 
from  the  capital,  and  never  visited  it  again. 

Years  after,  Mrs.  Adams,  without  her  husband's 
knowledge,  wrote  Jefferson ;  and  by  her  tact  and 
innate  good  sense  managed  to  renew  the  friendship 
of  the  two  men  who  had  stood  shoulder  to  shoulder 
in  the  stormy  days,  at  the  formation  of  the  govern 
ment.  If  one  wrote  the  Declaration  of  Indepen 
dence,  the  other  was  the  Atlas  to  bear  it,  until  the 
immortal  fifty-six  (himself  one)  eased  him  of  the 
burden. 

Mrs.  Adams  had  maternal  joys  and  sorrows  in  full 
share.  An  infant  daughter,  her  married  daughter, 
Mrs.  Smith,  and  her  second  son,  Charles,  died  before 
her.  The  latter  dying  without  fortune,  his  wife  and 
two  children  were  dependent  on  Mr.  Adams  for 
maintenance.  Thomas,  the  youngest,  studied  law 


5$  MRS.    JOHN    ADAMS. 

in  Philadelphia,  but  his  career  was  not  satisfactory 
to  his  parents.  Mrs.  Adams,  the  brightest  woman 
of  her  day,  had  little  patience  with  complaints  of 
hard  study  and  ill-health.  She  wrote  in  one  of  her 
letters  :  "  He  who  dies  with  studying,  dies  in  a 
good  cause,  and  may  go  to  another  world  much  bet 
ter  calculated  to  improve  his  talents  than  if  he  had 
died  a  blockhead 

Parental  pride  and  parental  ambition  were  fully 
satisfied  by  the  honors  bestowed  on  the  eldest  son. 
He  had  been  a  great  favorite  with  Washington,  who 
had  appointed  him  minister  to  the  Netherlands. 
Later,  he  was  minister  to  Berlin,  to  Russia,  and  now 
he  was  appointed  by  Madison,  minister  to  St.  James. 

The  crazy  George  III.  was  in  his  padded  cell,  and 
his  son,  afterwards  George  IV.,  was  Regent.  Nearly 
four  decades  had  passed  since  the  new  nation  had 
asserted  itself,  but  now  it  was  growing  and  prosper 
ous,  and  no  one  questioned  its  right  to  join  in  the 
stately  march  of  European  nations. 

At  the  election  of  Monroe,  young  Adams  was  re 
called  and  made  Secretary  of  State.  The  mother's 
heart  swelled  with  pride  and  pleasure,  and  had  her 
life  been  prolonged  she  would  have  seen  him  at  the 
head  of  the  nation. 

After  the  revolution,  Mr.  Adams  left  the  farm 
house,  which  had  been  the  home  of  his  father,  and 
bought  a  more  commodious  residence,  which  had 


MRS.    JOHN    ADAMS.  59 

belonged  to  one  of  the  Royalists.  He  doubled  its 
size,  and  altered  its  appearance.  It  was  the  home  of 
his  grandson,  Charles  Francis  Adams,  who  also  al 
tered  and  improved  it. 

One  of  the  rooms  was  finished  in  mahogany.  Mrs. 
Adams  always  liked  everything  about  her  bright  and 
cheerful,  and  to  carry  out  her  taste,  over  this  pol 
ished  almost  priceless  wood  she  put  a  coat  of  white 
paint.  It  has  since  been  scraped  and  its  polish 
restored. 

After  her  husband's  retirement,  she  spent  seven 
teen  happy  years  in  the  town  to  which  she  went  as  a 
bride.  She  died  of  fever,  at  the  age  of  seventy-four. 

Her  capacity  as  housekeeper,  steward,  and  farm 
manager  had  preserved  her  husband's  private  prop 
erty,  upon  which  she  early. foresaw  that  he  would  be 
obliged  to  depend  for  support  in  his  last  years.  In 
addition  to  her  good  sense  and  superior  mental  abili 
ties,  she  had  that  happy  faculty,  so  rare  among 
women,  of  having  her  own  way,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  instilling  into  her  husband's  mind  the  idea  that 
he  was  having  his, — yet  she  was  careful  of  his  dig 
nity,  and  never  forfeited  his  affection  or  respect. 

Mr.  Adams  lived  eight  years  after  the  death  of  his 
wife,  dying  Fourth  of  July,  1826.  He  never  forgot 
that  the  people  had  denied  him  a  second  election. 
He  carried  on  a  large  political  correspondence,  well- 
flavored  with  acrimony ;  would  say  that  the  franking 


6O  MRS.    JOHN    ADAMS. 

privilege  was  the  only  favor  for  which  he  was  in 
debted  to  the  government. 

For  a  long  time  he  was  helpless,  and  had  to  be  fed 
with  a  spoon,  but  his  intellect  was  clear  to  the  last. 
Two  hours  before  he  died  he  gave  a  toast,  to  be  of 
fered  at  the  Fourth  of  July  dinner,  —  "  Independence 
forever."  When  the  chill  of  death  was  creeping 
upon  him,  he  remembered  his  old  friend,  and  said, 
"  Jefferson  still  lives." 

The  entrance  of  Jefferson  into  the  spirit  world  was 
in  reality  two  hours  before  his  own. 

History  has  done  ample  justice  to  John  Adams, 
who  was  the  Colossus  of  the  Congress  of  the  Revo 
lution. 


MRS.  JEFFERSON. 

WHEN  Jefferson  became  the  chief  magistrate  of 
these  United  States,  there  was  no  woman  to  share 
his  triumph  and  preside  at  the  presidential  mansion. 
In  the  prime  of  his  early  manhood,  at  the  house  of 
John  Wayles,  one  of  his  legal  associates,  he  met  and 
loved  Martha  Skelton,  a  widowed  daughter,  reputed 
to  be  one  of  the  fairest  and  most  accomplished  of  the 
fair  women  of  the  Old  Dominion.  As  she  was  a 
woman  with  a  tall,  graceful  figure,  abundant  auburn 
hair,  a  face  beaming  with  color  and  expression,  edu 
cated,  with  a  taste  for  the  higher  literature,  a  marvel 
lous  voice,  and  skilled  in  playing  the  harpsichord, 
it  is  not  strange  that  she  had  many  suitors.  The 
wooing  of  our  hero  was  long  and  difficult  ;  for  a  time 
it  was  hard  to  tell  to  whom  she  would  give  her  hand. 

By  chance,  one  evening,  two  of  his  would-be  rivals 
met  at  her  door  ;  something  in  the  tone  of  a  love 
song,  played  by  Mrs.  Skelton  and  sung  by  Jefferson, 
told  them  that  the  battle  was  fought,  and  they  had 
not  won.  They  left  without  seeing  the  musicians, 
and  Jefferson  found  the  field  all  his  own,  and  the 
successful  wooing  went  on  without  a  rival. 

On  New  Year's  day,  1772,  the  happy  ending  was 


62  MRS.    JEFFERSON. 

celebrated,  and  after  a  few  festive  days  at  the  "  For 
est,"  the  home  of  the  bride,  the  wedding  journey  was 
begun  to  Monticello,  the  home  of  Jefferson,  more 
than  a  hundred  miles  away.  A  snowstorm  that  would 
have  done  credit  to  New  England  swept  over  Vir 
ginia,  and,  on  the  last  day  of  the  journey,  they  were 
compelled  to  leave  the  carriage  and  mount  the 
horses.  At  the  setting  of  the  sun,  the  snow  was 
two  feet  deep,  and  Monticello  not  only  eight  miles 
away,  but  on  a  mountain  five  hundred  and  eighty 
feet  high.  The  hearts  of  the  pair  were  light,  their 
spirits  gay,  and  the  distance  was  made  amid  mirth 
and  fun.  The  bride  and  bridegroom  had  come  un 
expectedly  ;  the  house  servants,  thinking  the  storm 
too  severe  for  travelling,  had  gone  to  their  cabins, 
and  were  wrapped  in  sleep.  No  fire.  No  supper. 

In  Southern  homes,  no  stores  are  kept  in  the 
houses,  and,  in  this  establishment,  nothing  eatable 
or  drinkable  could  be  found,  save  a  bottle  of  wine. 
It  was  dreary,  but  the  house  rang  with  laughter  and 
song,  and  the  home  coming  was  ever  looked  back 
upon  as  a  joyous  time. 

A  lull  in  the  political  strife  gave  them  a  year  of 
perfect  happiness.  In  the  autumn,  the  little  daugh 
ter,  Martha,  who  figured  so  largely  in  Jefferson's  life, 
was  born.  In  youth,  Jefferson  had  had  a  bosom 
friend.  The  two,  lying  on  the  grass  beneath  an 
immense  oak  on  the  Little  Mount,  had  made  to  each 


MRS.    JEFFERSON.  63 

other  the  romantic  promise  that  the  one  who  died 
first  should  be  buried  tinder  this  tree,  by  the  other. 
This  friend,  Dabney  Carr,  married  Jefferson's  sister. 
Away  from  home,  he  was  attacked  by  malignant 
typhoid  fever,  and  died  before  his  friends  knew  that 
he  was  ill.  He  left  six  young  children.  The  shock 
was  too  much  for  the  wife,  lying  helpless  with  an 
infant  but  a  few  days  old,  and  for  a  time  she  lost 
her  reason.  Jefferson  took  them  all  to  his  home. 
The  six  were  educated  and  treated  with  the  same 
love  and  tenderness  as  his  own  children,  and  their 
love  for  him  partook  of  idolatry. 

He  laid  the  body  of  the  father  beneath  the  oak 
tree,  and  wrote  his  epitaph,  ending:  "To  his  vir 
tue,  good  sense,  learning,  and  friendship,  this  stone 
is  dedicated  by  Thomas  Jefferson,  who,  of  all  men 
living,  loved  him  most."  His  fondness  for  chil 
dren  was  excessive,  and  what  would  have  been  a 
burden  to  most  men  was  absolute  joy  to  him.  The 
death  of  his  wife's  father  fortunately  doubled  his 
estate. 

Though  Jefferson  was  a  successful  lawyer,  Coke 
had  been,  as  he  put  it,  "  a  dull  old  scoundrel  "  and 
only  mastered  by  his  unbending  will.  What  he  did 
love  were  music,  mathematics,  and  architecture.  To 
fiddle,  he  would  steal  hours  from  sleep.  Master  of 
Latin,  Greek,  and  of  several  modern  languages,  — 
intent  even  on  Gaelic,  versed  in  science  and  litera- 


64  MRS.    JEFFERSON. 

tare,  not  neglecting  Coke,  he  managed  to  give  three 
hours  a  day  to  this  amusement.  His  negro  servant, 
in  the  simplicity  of  his  heart,  thought  that  the  fire 
which  had  burned  not  only  Jefferson's  own,  but  his 
father's  books,  and  all  his  papers,  could  not  be  a 
crushing  blow,  when  he  could  say  at  the  end  of  the 
disastrous  news,  "But,  Massa,  we  saved  the  fiddle." 

Before  he  was  of  age,  he  had  planned  a  home  on 
the  Little  Mount.  For  years  he  brooded  over  it, 
was  his  own  architect.  A  distinguished  marquis  of 
France,  travelling  in  America,  wrote  :  "  Mr.  Jeffer 
son  is  the  first  American  who  has  consulted  the  fine 
arts,  to  know  how  he  should  shelter  himself  from  the 
weather."  In  this  Italian  villa,  surrounded  by  orna 
mental  grounds,  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  from 
the  sea,  with  nothing  to  break  the  view,  Martha  Jef 
ferson  spent  all  her  married  life,  almost  unclouded, 
until  Boston  raised  her  cry  of  distress.  Jefferson's 
spirit  kindled  at  the  tyranny  of  the  mother  country  ; 
he  was  called  to  Philadelphia,  to  meet  the  master 
minds  of  the  day.  It  was  he  who  was  chosen  to 
prepare  an  humble  and  dutiful  address  to  the  king. 
Humble  and  dutiful ! 

He,  a  colonial  subject,  spoke  to  the  King  of 
England  as  man  to  man.  Every  sentence  had  a 
barbed  point.  At  the  end,  he  bade  him,  "  Not  let 
the  name  of  George  III.  be  a  blot  on  the  page  cf 
history,"  bade  him,  "Aim  to  do  his  duty."  It  was 


MRS.    JEFFERSON.  65 

not  sent  to  the  King,  but  it  was  printed  and  sent 
to  England,  which  placed  his  name  on  a  list  of  pro 
scriptions,  enrolled  in  a  bill  of  attainder. 

Americans  had  been  intensely  loyal  to  the  mother 
country,  and  with  singular  pertinacity  clung  to  her, 
but  the  burning  of  Falmouth  and  Norfolk  turned 
the  current  of  their  loyalty  and  made  them  almost 
unanimous  for  independence.  As  Jefferson  had 
proved  that  he  could  wield  a  masterly  pen,  he  was 
called  upon  to  draught  a  Declaration.  Always  fore 
most  in  some  overt  act,  which  England  called 
treason,  Mrs.  Jefferson  was  kept  in  constant  anx 
iety  for  his  personal  safety. 

Twice,  Jefferson  was  named  with  Dr.  Franklin 
as  envoy  to  Paris.  He  had  an  intense  desire  to 
go,  but  his  wife  was  too  delicate  to  bear  him  com 
pany,  and  nothing  would  induce  him  to  leave  the 
country  without  her. 

At  the  surrender  of  Burgoyne,  there  was  a 
scarcity  of  provisions  at  the  North,  and  the  pris 
oners,  four  thousand  in  number,  were  marched  to 
Virginia,  the  wheatfield  of  America.  Their  bar 
racks  were  within  sight  of  Monticello.  Mrs.  Jef 
ferson  was  very  active  in  assisting  the  officers' 
wives  to  settle,  and  Jefferson  threw  open  his  house, 
library,  and  grounds.  The  winter  was  very  gay, 
concerts  were  frequent,  and  now  and  then  a  play 
was  given.  Even  General  Phillips,  commander  of 


66  MRS.    JEFFERSON. 

the  English  troops,  whom  Jefferson  described  as 
the  "proudest  man  of  the  proudest  nation  on  earth," 
was  not  proof  against  the  Monticello  civilities. 

In  1779,  Jefferson  was  chosen  governor  of  Vir 
ginia.  The  State  stood  shoulder  to  shoulder  with 
Massachusetts,  but  since  the  burning  of  Norfolk 
the  horrors  of  war  had  not  invaded  her  soil.  Jef 
ferson  had  sent  every  available  man  and  horse  to 
Gates,  but  after  his  defeat  at  Camden  there  was 
nothing  to  prevent  the  British  troops  from  sweeping 
down  upon  Virginia,  determined  to  lay  waste  the 
country  they  could  not  conquer.  Arnold  sailed  up 
the  James  and  ravaged  as  far  as  Richmond.  There 
was  a  burning  desire  throughout  the  country  for 
his  capture.  At  the  first  call,  twenty-five  hundred 
militia  were  on  the  traitor's  path.  Jefferson  prom 
ised  them  five  thousand  guineas,  if  he  were  taken 
alive,  but  he  was  wary  and  the  elements  favored  him. 

This  period  is  the  only  one  when  the  name  of 
Mrs.  Jefferson  appears  among  the  patriotic  women 
of  the  day.  Her  life  was  apart  from  politics,  en 
grossed  in  the  duties  of  a  large  household,  but 
when  Mrs.  Washington  called  upon  her,  as  the 
Governor's  wife,  to  enlist  the  women  of  Virginia, 
in  assisting  to  supply  the  needs  of  the  army,  she 
promptly  responded,  and  her  letter  to  forward  the 
scheme  is  preserved  in  the  New  York  Historical 
Society. 


MRS.  JEFFERSON.  6/ 

Cornwallis  and  Tarleton  swept  over  the  border. 
The  famous  Tarleton,  with  two  hundred  cavalry, 
hoped  to  capture  the  Governor  and  Legislature.  At 
midnight,  as  he  halted  to  refresh  his  men  and  the 
horses,  a  man  mounted  a  fleet  steed,  rode  away,  and 
warned  them  in  time  to  escape. 

Jefferson  put  his  wife  and  children  (the  youngest 
two  months  old)  in  a  carriage,  selected  his  most 
valuable  papers,  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  away, 
after  he  had  seen  the  advance  of  the  troopers,  who 
entered  the  house  five  minutes  after  he  left  it. 

Two  faithful  servants,  Martin  and  Caesar,  were 
bent  on  concealing  the  family  silver  beneath  the 
portico, — one  stowed  away  while  the  other  handed 
down.  At  the  sound  of  horsemen,  the  one  above 
closed  the  plank,  and  left  the  other  cramped  in  a 
small  hole  and  almost  suffocated  with  heat  —  the 
troops  stayed  eighteen  hours  and  the  devoted  fellow 
made  no  sound.  However,  it  was  needless  suffer 
ing,  for  Tarleton  had  forbidden  any  injury  to  the 
house  or  its  contents.  It  was  only  the  Governor 
who  was  wanted,  and  a  pistol  was  held  at  the  breast 
of  Martin,  with  the  threat  of  putting  a  ball  through 
him,  if  he  did  not  tell  the  direction  in  which  his 
master  had  gone.  "  Fire  away,  then,"  was  the  un 
daunted  reply. 

Jefferson  had  another  estate  a  hundred  miles 
away,  upon  which  Cornwallis  bestowed  his  atten- 


68  MRS.    JEFFERSON, 

tions,  destroyed  the  growing  crops,  cut  the  throats 
of  the  colts,  burned  the  fences,  and  carried  away  the 
negroes  to  his  camp,  reeking  with  small-pox  and 
putrid  fever. 

The  frequent  raids  of  the  enemy,  and  the  severe 
losses  of  the  defenceless  people  made  them  bitter, 
and  they  cast  the  blame  upon  their  Governor,  who 
had  suffered  as  severely  as  any.  Censure,  which  so 
often  falls  to  the  lot  of  public  men  in  times  of  ad 
versity,  cut  him  to  the  quick.  He  indignantly 
retired  from  public  life,  with  the  determination 
never  again  to  accept  office.  Nursing  his  wrath,  he 
even  declined  the  coveted  mission  to  Paris,  when 
his  wife  was  in  a  condition  to  make  the  voyage  with 
him,  and  retired  to  the  domestic  affairs  of  Monti- 
cello. 

Now  the  war  was  to  be  fought  upon  Virginian  soil 
and  in  Virginian  waters;  for  nine  months  the  contest 
went  on.  What  was  begun  in  the  Old  Bay  State 
was  ended  in  the  Old  Dominion. 

Constant  anxiety  and  maternal  cares  told  heavily 
upon  the  delicate  wife  of  Jefferson.  Three  babies 
died,  and  when  the  sixth  came,  serious  fears  were 
felt  for  the  mother.  Gleams  of  hope  were  followed 
by  despair,  which  settled  into  certainty.  He,  with 
his  sister  and  her  sister  were  the  only  watchers. 
For  four  months,  Jefferson  was  never  beyond  her 
call,  and  most  of  the  time  sat  at  her  bedside.  He 


MRS.    JEFFERSON.  69 

'preferred  to  give  her  food  and  medicines  with  his 
own  hands.  A  wife's  pride  and  ambition  for  her 
husband  had  been  satisfied,  and  his  tenderness  and 
devotion,  so  lavishly  bestowed,  had  turned  her  love 
into  idolatry.  She  exacted  a  promise  from  him  that 
he  would  never  marry  again,  which  he,  holding  her 
hand,  solemnly  gave.  A  child  of  the  Church,  with 
no  fear  of  death,  she  clung  to  him  as  if  there  could 
be  no  heaven  without  him.  At  the  end  he  fainted, 
and  was  so  long  unconscious  it  was  feared  he  had 
joined  his  wife.  For  three  weeks  he  kept  his  room, 
attended  day  and  night  by  his  little  daughter,  who 
was  the  solace  of  all  his  after  life.  Day  and  night 
he  walked  the  floor,  and  at  times  the  violence  of  his 
grief  amazed  and  frightened  the  child,  but  she  ever 
kept  to  her  post.  When  he  left  his  room,  it  was  to 
mount  his  horse  and  ride  for  hours,  always  taking 
the  child,  who  bore  the  name  of  her  mother. 

Again  the  mission  to  France  to  assist  Franklin 
and  Jay  in  negotiations  for  peace,  was  offered  him. 
Monticello  had  lost  its  charm,  and  it  was  a  boon  to 
go.  .A  house  was  engaged  in  Paris,  and  he  was  at 
Baltimore  ready  to  sail,  when  the  news  came  that  the 
treaty  was  signed. 

Peace  softened  the  asperities  of  war,  and  when 
Virginia  elected  him  senator  to  Congress,  sitting  at 
Annapolis,  he  accepted  the  position.  Martha  was 
placed  at  school  in  Philadelphia.  His  letters  to  her 


70  MRS.    JEFFERSON. 

are  touching,  blending  the  advice  of  a  father  and  a 
mother.  She  must  strive  to  be  good  at  all  times 
and  to  all  living  creatures  ;  she  must  acquire  accom 
plishments.  His  daughter  must  be  very  neat  in  her 
dress  and  appearance,  her  hair  must  be  kept  neatly 
brushed ;  gentlemen  despise  slovenliness,  and  a 
young  girl  should  be  careful  to  avoid  it ;  "  it  pro 
duces  great  praise  to  spell  well  ; "  if  she  be  so 
unhappy  as  to  incur  the  displeasure  of  her  teacher 
she  must  think  no  apology  or  concession  too  great  to 
regain  her  good-will. 

After  peace  was  signed,  commercial  treaties  were 
to  be  made,  and  for  the  fourth  time  Jefferson  was 
chosen  an  envoy  to  Paris.  This  time  he  sailed  from 
Boston,  with  the  little  Martha  at  his  side.  Had  they 
been  a  day  earlier,  they  could  have  sailed  with  Mrs. 
Adams  and  her  daughter  ;  but  in  those  days,  a  large 
supply  of  stores  must  be  taken,  and  more  prepara 
tions  made  than  could  be  accomplished  in  so  short  a 
time. 

Jefferson  succeeded  Dr.  Franklin,  but  as  he  said 
.to  the  French  minister  in  presenting  his  credentials, 
"No  one  can  replace  him."  He  had  the  pleasure  of 
witnessing  the  departure  of  the  grand  old  man ; 
royalty  paid  him  honor ;  the  people  treated  him 
with  homage  accorded  only  to  royalty :  ladies  of 
the  highest  distinction  threw  their  arms  around  his 
neck  and  kissed  him.  Jefferson  looked  smilingly  on, 


MRS.  JEFFERSON.  /I 

saying,  "  if  he  were  to  do  his  work,  he  wished  to 
enjoy  all  his  privileges."  "  Ah,  you  are  too  young, 
too  young,"  said  the  doctor. 

Miss  Martha  wrote  home  an  amusing  account  of 
their  arrival.  "  I  wish  you  could  have  been  with  us 
when  we  arrived,  I  am  sure  you  would  have  laughed, 
for  we  were  obliged  to  send  immediately  for  the 
stay-maker,  the  mantua-maker,  the  milliner,  and 
even  the  shoemaker,  before  I  could  go  out.  I 
have  never  had  the  friseur  but  once,  but  I  soon 
got  rid  of  him  and  turned  down  my  hair,  in  spite 
of  all  they  could  say.  ...  I  have  seen  two  nuns 
take  the  veil.  ...  I  was  placed  in  a  convent  at  my 
arrival,  and  I  leave  you  to  judge  of  my  situation,  —  I 
did  not  speak  a  word  of  French,  and  no  one  here 
knew  English  but  a  little  girl  two  years  old  .  .  . 
There  are  about  fifty  or  sixty  pensioners  in  the 
house,  so  that,  speaking  as  much  as  I  could  with 
them,  I  learned  the  language  very  soon.  .  .  .  We 
wear  the  uniform,  which  is  crimson,  made  like  a 
frock,  laced  behind,  with  the  train,  like  a  robe  de 
cour,  hooked  on,  muslin  cuffs,  and  tuckers." 

At  first,  the  child  was  very  homesick,  but  she 
learned  to  like  convent  life  even  better  than  her 
father  desired  that  she  should. 

The  first  news  from  home  was  that  Lucy,  the 
baby  who  came  as  the  mother  faded,  had  died  of 
whooping-cough. 


72  MRS.    JEFFERSOW. 

The  loss  of  this  child  made  the  father  wish  to 
have  his  other  daughter,  his  Polly,  as  he  called  her, 
with  him.  He  wrote  his  sister,  Mrs.  Eppes,  who 
had  the  care  of  her,  to  send  her  in  charge  of  a  ser 
vant.  The  sensitive  child  was  so  heartbroken,  that 
a  letter  of  remonstrance  was  written  to  her  father. 
When  persuasions,  the  promises  of  big  dolls,  play 
things  unheard  of  in  America  and  the  companionship 
of  her  sister  availed  nothing,  a  decided  order  was 
given  to  send  her.  So  violent  was  her  opposition 
that  she  was  taken,  with  her  cousins,  on  board  a 
vessel,  as  if  it  were  for  a  visit ;  when  from  sheer 
weariness  she  fell  asleep,  the  cousins  left  her  and  the 
vessel  sailed.  The  child  was  old  enough  to  know 
that  she  was  ill-treated ;  it  seemed  worse  than  leav 
ing  her  playmate,  Jacky  Eppes. 

Mrs.  Adams  received  her  in  London,  and  from  her 
charming  letters,  we  glean  an  account  of  Jefferson's 
younger  daughter. 

"  I  have  had  with  me  for  a  fortnight  a  little  daugh 
ter  of  Mr.  Jefferson's,  who  arrived  here  with  a  young 
negro  girl,  her  servant,  from  Virginia.  A  finer 
child  for  her  age,  I  never  saw.  So  mature  an 
understanding ;  so  womanly  a  behavior,  and  so 
much  sensibility  united,  are  rarely  to  be  met  with. 
I  grew  so  fond  of  her,  and  she  so  much  attached  to 
me,  that  when  Mr.  Jefferson  sent  for  her,  they  had 
to  force  the  little  creature  away.  She  is  but  eight 


MRS.    JEFFERSON.  73 

years  old.  She  would  sit  sometimes  and  describe  to 
me,  her  aunt  who  brought  her  up,  the  obligation  she 
was  under  to  her,  and  the  love  she  had  for  her  little 
cousins,  until  tears  would  stream  down  her  cheeks, 
and  how  I  had  been  her  friend,  and  she  loved  me. 
Her  papa  would  break  her  heart  by  making  her  go 
again.  She  clung  round  me  so  that  I  could  not  help 
shedding  a  tear  at  parting  with  her.  She  was  the 
favorite  of  every  one  in  the  house.  I  regret  that 
such  fine  spirits  must  be  spent  in  the  walls  of  a 
convent.  She  is  a  beautiful  girl,  too." 

She  had  another  season  of  homesickness  in  Paris. 
—  She  cared  little  for  music  or  study,  but  she  had 
her  father's  power  of  winning  hearts.  The  nuns 
could  not  chide,  but  their  hearts  went  out  in  ca 
resses  and  love  for  this  beautiful  child. 

The  sweet  purity  of  the  nuns,  and  their  intellectual 
pursuits,  which  were  the  charm  of  her  life,  made  the 
convent  of  Panthemont  a  charmed  place  to  Miss 
Martha,  the  girl  of  sixteen. 

She  wrote  her  father  that  her  choice  was  to  join 
the  nuns  and  live  a  religious  life.  The  father  did 
not  hasten  to  answer,  but  when  he  did  it  was  in 
person.  He  privately  interviewed  the  abbess,  with 
beaming  smiles  met  his  daughters,  and  told  them  he 
had  come  to  take  them  home.  The  convent  life  had 
ended,  and  never  was  the  girl's  request  alluded  to  by 
her  father. 


74  MRS-    JEFFERSON. 

Masters  were  employed  for  the  young  ladies,  and 
Miss  Martha  was  allowed  to  mix  in  Parisian  society ; 
that  espousing  the  church  had  no  deep  hold  upon 
her  is  proved  by  a  rule,  laid  down  by  her  father, 
that  she  should  go  to  only  three  balls  in  a  week. 

A  kinsman  of  Jefferson's,  Thomas  Randolph,  edu 
cated  at  Edinburgh,  had  visited  him  at  Paris,  and 
asked  permission  to  woo  Miss  Martha,  the  playmate 
of  his  boyhood.  The  father  was  gracious,  but  on 
account  of  the  girl's  age  had  asked  him  to  defer  his 
proposals. 

The  young  man  sailed  for  Virginia,  and  in  the 
autumn  of  the  next  year,  Jefferson  took  his  daugh 
ters  home. 

They  had  a  very  long  passage ;  entered  Chesa 
peake  Bay  in  a  fog  and  barely  escaped  shipwreck, 
and  then  were  run  into  by  another  vessel.  After 
landing,  they  nearly  lost  their  effects  by  the  burning 
of  the  ship. 

At  Richmond,  they  received  an  ovation.  Just 
before  Christmas,  they  reached  Monticello.  The 
servants  had  been  notified  and  given  a  holiday. 
They  enthusiastically  resolved  to  meet  "  the  family  " 
at  the  foot  of  the  mountain.  In  their  impatience 
they  started  too  early,  and  walked  on.  Four  miles 
from  home,  they  espied  the  carriage,  and,  amid 
shouts  and  cheers,  detached  the  horses  and  drew 
them  home  —  up  the  mountain  —  at  a  run.  Between 


MRS.    JEFFERSON.  75 

two  files,  "the  family"  entered  the  house,  the 
negroes  shouting,  "God  bless  you's —  Look  at  the 
chilluns  —  Ain't  our  Miss  Patsy  tall?  Our  dear 
little  Polly,  bless  her  soul !  "  Long  years  after,  Mrs. 
Randolph  wrote,  "  such  a  scene,  I  never  witnessed  in 
my  life." 

After  settling  his  daughters,  Jefferson  intended  to 
return  to  Paris,  but  Washington  had  appointed  him 
Secretary  of  State,  and,  as  he  backed  the  appoint 
ment  by  a  personal  request,  Jefferson  sacrificed  his 
inclinations  and  accepted. 

In  Paris,  Miss  Jefferson  must  have  had  some  in 
sight  into  Thomas  Randolph's  affections  and  aspira 
tions,  or  else  she  required  little  wooing,  for  in  Feb 
ruary,  after  her  return,  we  read  of  a  braw  wedding 
at  Monticello,  wherein  she  played  the  part  of  bride, 
and  Thomas  Randolph,  of  bridegroom.  In  the  light 
of  this  event  we  can  see  why  she  was  so  easily  dis 
suaded  from  becoming  a  nun.  Jefferson  expressed 
his  satisfaction  by  saying :  "  She  has  a  man  of 
science,  sense,  virtue,  and  competence." 

The  pair  lived  at  Monticello  and  took  charge  of 
little  Polly.  Jefferson's  letters  are  as  frequent  as 
ever,  teeming  with  advice  and  instruction,  spiced 
with  anecdotes,  never  omitting  the  latest  New  York 
fashions.  He  astonished  New  Yorkers  himself,  by 
dressing  in  red  breeches  and  red  waistcoat  —  Paris 
fashion. 


76  MRS.    JEFFERSON. 

When  Miss  Marie  entered  her  teens,  her  father 
took  her  to  Philadelphia  for  the  season.  On  the 
way  they  visited  Mount  Vernon. 

Nelly  Custis  and  Polly  formed  an  intimate  friend 
ship,  and  were  so  "  particularly  happy  "  that  Polly's 
father  left  her  to  go  on  later  with  Mrs.  Washington 
and  her  granddaughter. 

She  was  in  a  circle  of  loving  friends  and  passed  a 
very  happy  winter.  Mrs.  Adams  fondly  welcomed 
the  beautiful  girl,  who  as  a  child  had  so  clung  to  her 
in  London  ;  and  Jack  Eppes,  who  loved  her  as  a 
child,  loved  her  then,  and  always  loved  her,  was 
there  studying  law.  When  Congress  was  not  in 
session,  she  divided  her  time  between  Monticello 
and  her  aunt,  Mrs.  Eppes. 

Jefferson's  next  public  office  was  that  of  vice- 
president.  In  the  first  year  of  his  term,  his 
daughter  wrote  for  his  approval  of  her  engagement 
to  her  cousin  Jack.  "  If  he  had  the  whole  earth  to 
choose  from,  he  would  have  chosen  Jack  for  her 
husband,"  was  the  return  answer.  In  the  autumn, 
the  marriage  took  place,  and  she  became  mistress  of 
her  father's  house,  Mrs.  Randolph  having  removed 
to  her  husband's  estate,  which  was  in  sight  of  Monti- 
cello. 

In  1 80 1,  Jefferson  became  President.  John 
Adams,  by  his  courageous  independence  had  main 
tained  peace,  and  the  country  was  prosperous  and 


MRS.    JEFFERSON.  77 

happy ;  yet  so  popular  was  the  election  of  his  succes 
sor,  that  the  day  of  his  inauguration  was  celebrated 
throughout  the  United  States,  as  if  the  nation  had 
faced  the  rocks  of  Scylla  and  escaped  them. 

Regardless  of  the  parade  made  by  the  people, 
Jefferson  conducted  his  part  of  the  programme  with 
simplicity.  He  intended  to  ride  to  the  Capitol,  in  a 
carriage-and-four,  but  as  this  portion  of  his  equip 
ment  had  been  left  to  the  care  of  "Jack  Eppes," 
his  son-in-law,  who  failed  to  produce  them  in  time 
"he  rode  on  horseback  to  the  Capitol,  without  a  single 
guard  or  even  servant  in  his  train,  dismounted  with 
out  assistance,  and  hitched  the  bridle  of  his  horse  to 
the  palisades." 

Whatever  injury  Napoleon  worked  in  Europe,  his 
day  of  power  was  a  boon  to  the  United  States.  The 
English  had  won  Canada  from  France  and  their 
covetous  eyes  were  cast  upon  Louisiana,  —  to  con 
trol  the  Mississippi  was  almost  to  control  the  con 
tinent. 

The  dearest  wish  of  Jefferson's  heart  —  the  sub 
ject  upon  which  he  had  brooded  for  years,  was  to  add 
it  to  his  country's  domain  ;  he  had  counselled  Wash 
ington  to  fight,  rather  than  let  it  pass  into  the  hands 
of  Great  Britain.  Fortune  favored  him.  Napoleon 
knew  its  priceless  value  —  no  man  better,  but  to 
have  invaded  and  humbled  England  he  would  almost 
have  sold  France.  Money  he  must  have,  to  strike 


78  MRS.    JEFFERSON. 

the  mighty  blow  he  meditated.  Jefferson  sent 
Monroe  to  proffer  it,  without  haggling  over  the 
amount.  This  largest  and  cheapest  piece  of  real 
estate  ever  sold,  almost  doubled  the  territory  and 
importance  of  the  United  States. 

For  years,  the  Algerine  pirates  had  been  thorns, 
with  very  sharp  points  to  all  Christian  nations.  It 
seems  incredible  to-day,  that,  at  the  beginning  of  the 
century,  each  paid  an  annual  tribute  to  the  haughty 
Dey  of  Algiers,  to  protect  its  commerce  ;  and  con 
tributions  were  taken  in  churches  to  ransom  the 
captured,  a  regular  scale  of  prices,  according  to 
rank,  being  fixed  by  my  lord  of  Tripoli,  but  his 
tory  tells  the  story. 

To  the  wise  foresight  of  John  Adams,  the  United 
States  was  indebted  for  a  small  navy.  Jefferson 
reduced  it,  but  he  was  very  careful  that  what  he 
did  keep  afloat,  should  do  good  service.  The  port  of 
Tripoli  was  blockaded,  the  city  bombarded,  and  in  its 
harbor,  the  daring  Decatur  immortalized  his  name. 

A  new  era  and  a  new  race  seemed  to  have  dawned 
upon  the  bashaw.  As  these  American  Christian 
dogs  had  a  spirit,  which  it  was  not  well  to  defy,  he 
made  peace. 

European  nations  looked  on  and  beheld  what 
prowess  and  a  very  small  force  could  do,  and  by 
combining  managed  to  extract  the  thorns  from  their 
flesh  and  shake  the  incubus  from  their  shoulders. 


UNIVERSITY 

Of 


MRS.    JEFFERSON.  79 

One  year  of  Jefferson's  administration  was  ren 
dered  memorable  by  the  sail  of  Robert  Fulton's 
steamboat  on  the  Hudson.  For  five  years,  that 
river  could  boast  of  having  the  only  one  in  the 
world. 

England,  always  fertile  in  picking  a  quarrel,  never 
caring  for  the  right,  arrogantly  claimed  that  she 
would  take  seamen  of  English  birth  wherever  she 
could  find  them,  and  if  our  vessels  passed  her  on 
the  high  seas,  she  would  stop  them  and  make  search. 
Dastardly  deeds  were  done  in  our  own  waters.  She 
disavowed  ordering  them  and  politely  expressed 
"regrets,"  but  as  for  making  honest  reparation, 
she  had  no  idea  of  it,  not  she. 

As  the  United  States  was  a  neutral  power,  she 
had  an  honest  right  to  fetch  and  carry.  Napoleon 
said  we  should  have  no  commerce  with  England,  and 
England,  vice  versa.  As  we  were  a  prey  to  both 
parties,  an  Embargo  Act  was  passed  forbidding 
American  vessels  to  leave  port.  It  was  intended 
that  our  enemies  should  suffer  for  our  supplies,  but 
unfortunately  it  worked  two  ways,  and  we  suffered 
for  their  money. 

Jefferson  entailed  this  feverish  state  of  affairs 
upon  his  successor,  yet  his  popularity  never  waned, 
and  he  could  have  had  a  third  term,  if  he  would  have 
accepted  it. 

No  one  suffered  more  from  the  Embargo  Act  than 


80  MRS.    JEFFERSON. 

Jefferson  himself;  his  cotton  and  tobacco  were 
stored  in  his  warehouses,  and  he  had  not  where 
withal  to  pay  his  debts  on  leaving  Washington,  until 
his  agent  had  contracted  a  large  loan. 

Absorbed  in  public  affairs,  he  had  not  looked  into 
his  own.  He  wrote  that  he  was  in  an  agony  of 
humiliation,  and  should  pass  sleepless  nights  until 
the  matter  was  arranged. 

In  his  first  term  the  daughters  spent  one  season 
with  him.  At  the  close  of  it,  Mrs.  Eppes,  whose 
beauty  exceeded  that  of  her  mother,  with  a  consti 
tution  that  was  even  more  frail,  died  after  the  birth 
of  her  second  child. 

Grief  at  her  loss  told  so  heavily  upon  the  Presi 
dent,  that  Mrs.  Randolph  spent  the  succeeding  win 
ter  with  him,  and  her  second  son  was  born  that 
season  ;  at  other  times  the  White  House  was  with 
out  a  mistress. 

The  stately  etiquette  and  the  formality  practised 
among  crowned  heads  had  been  maintained  through 
Washington's  and  Adams'  administration,  but  Jeffer 
son  put  it  all  aside.  He  was  not  only  Republican  in 
politics,  but  in  manners  and  dress.  The  weekly 
levees  were  abolished,  and  only  on  New  Year's  Day 
and  Fourth  of  July  did  he  keep  open  house.  He 
kept  up  old  Virginian  hospitality  ;  a  long  table  was 
daily  spread  and  was  always  full,  but  the  company 
were  men.  His  steward  told  a  guest  that  it  often 


MRS.    JEFFERSON.  8  I 

took  fifty  dollars  to  pay  for  what  marketing  they 
would  use  in  a  clay.  It  is  said  that  during  Jeffer 
son's  eight  years'  administration,  he  and  his  guests 
drank  twenty  thousand  dollars  worth  of  wines  and 
brandy. 

If  a  dinner  were  to  be  given  and  ladies  were 
included,  he  would  ask  Mrs.  Madison  to  receive 
and  preside.  On  one  occasion,  when  the  dinner 
was  announced,  he  offered  her  his  arm  and  led  the 
way,  without  any  regard  to  precedence,  much  to  the 
indignation  of  the  British  minister,  whose  wife  was 
present.  He  even  made  it  a  matter  of  complaint, 
and  laid  it  before  the  English  minister  for  Foreign 
Affairs.  Had  the  royal  Charlotte  been  present,  she 
would  have  had  no  courtesy  on  the  score  of  rank. 

Jefferson  courteously  remained  in  Washington  to 
see  his  successor  installed  in  ofBce.  A  family  letter 
tells  us  that,  "  At  Madison's  first  inauguration, 
Thomas  Jefferson  Randolph,  his  grandson  and  name 
sake,  was  a  lad  of  seventeen  years,  and  was  his 
grandfather's  sole  companion  as  he  rode,  in  those 
days  of  republican  simplicity,  up  Pennsylvania  Ave 
nue  on  horseback,  from  the  President's  house  to  the 
Capitol,  where  grandfather  and  grandson,  dismount 
ing,  hitched  their  horses  to  the  paling,  and  the  lat 
ter  went  into  the  Congressional  halls  to  see  the 
government  pass  from  his  hands  into  those  of  his 
friend." 


82  MRS.    JEFFERSON. 

The  next  day  Jefferson  went  to  his  beloved  Monti- 
cello,  and  for  seventeen  years  lived  the  life  of  a 
southern  planter. 

Mrs.  Randolph  presided  over  his  house.  She  was 
the  mother  of  twelve  children,  six  of  whom  were 
daughters,  who  never  had  any  teacher  but  herself ; 
these,  with  Francis,  son  of  Mrs.  Eppes,  made  a 
merry  household. 

One  serious  annoyance  was  the  number  of  guests 
that  thronged  the  house  and  literally  ate  up  the  mas 
ter's  substance.  Once,  Mrs.  Randolph  was  obliged 
to  prepare  beds  for  fifty  inmates.  One  family  of  six 
persons  came  from  Europe  and  remained  ten  months. 

Jefferson  twice  had  the  pleasure  of  receiving 
Lafayette,  and  it  was  he  who  proposed  that  Con 
gress  should  indemnify  the  noble  Frenchman  for  the 
money  he  advanced  in  the  Revolutionary  War. 

At  a  time  of  financial  panic,  Jefferson  generously 
indorsed  a  note  for  a  large  amount,  hoping  to  save  a 
relative  from  ruin — the  ruin  came,  not  only  to  his 
relative  but  to  himself. 

This  loss,  with  the  debt  for  the  Washington  ex 
penses,  his  immense  family,  added  to  the  locusts 
which  devoured  him,  brought  him  to  great  financial 
straits.  The  war  of  1812  destroyed  commerce,  and 
his  cotton  and  tobacco  were  housed  as  in  the  days  of 
the  Embargo  Act.  Debt  was  abhorrent  to  his 
nature.  To  meet  the  more  urgent  claims,  he  made 


MRS.    JEFFERSON.  83 

the  sacrifice  of  selling  what  was  the  most  precious  — 
his  library.  The  collection  of  it  was  begun  directly 
after  the  fire  that  spared  the  fiddle.  For  sixty 
years,  in  Europe  and  America,  he  had  searched  for 
the  rarest  treasures  ;  priceless  as  it  was  to  him  per 
sonally,  he  offered  it  to  Congress  to  replace  the 
library  burned  by  the  British.  A  committee  was 
appointed  to  appraise  its  value.  Twenty-three  thou 
sand  dollars,  half  its  cost,  was  the  result. 

Congress  was  as  scrupulously  exact  in  payment,  as 
Portia  with  Shylock. 

This  was  but  a  temporary  relief,  and  there  were 
no  purchasers  for  land,  his  only  resource.  Compelled 
to  pay  the  note  of  twenty  thousand  dollars  which  he 
had  indorsed,  in  the  last  year  of  his  life,  he  asked  of 
the  state  legislature  permission  to  sell  some  of  his 
farms  by  lottery,  as  was  often  done,  if  the  money 
were  to  be  given  for  a  public  object. 

He  pathetically  wrote :  "  If  it  be  permitted  in  my 
case,  my  lands  here  alone,  with  the  mills,  etc.,  will 
pay  everything,  and  will  leave  Monticello  and  a  farm 
free.  If  refused,  I  must  sell  everything  here,  per 
haps  considerably  at  Bedford,  move  thither  with  my 
family,  where  I  have  not  even  a  log-hut  to  put  my 
head  into." 

There  was  so  much  reluctance  and  red-tape  busi 
ness,  that  the  scheme  was  given  up,  even  after  the 
Legislature  consented  ;  in  sorrow,  but  with  no  bitter- 


84  MRS.    JEFFERSON. 

ness,  he  exclaimed,  "  I  count  on  nothing  now.     I  am 
taught  to  know  my  standard." 

Individuals  in  New  York,  Philadelphia,  and  Balti 
more,  who  honored  the  sage  of  Monticello,  and  sym 
pathized  in  his  distress,  raised  a  subscription  for  his 
benefit,  which  he  proudly  called,  "  The  pure  and  un 
solicited  offering  of  love,"  and  happily  thought  it 
would  save  Monticello  for  his  daughter  and  grand 
children. 

He  had  no  disease,  nor  decay  of  mental  powers,  — 
the  state  he  most   dreaded.     In    1822,  he  wrote  Mr. 
Adams,  — 

"  I  have  ever  dreaded  a  doting  old  age  ;  and  my 
health  has  been  so  generally  good,  and  is  now  so 
good,  that  I  dread  it  still.  The  rapid  decline  of  my 
strength  during  the  last  winter,  has  made  me  hope 
sometimes  that  I  see  land.  During  summer  I  enjoy 
its  temperature  ;  but  I  shudder  at  the  approach  of 
winter,  and  wish  I  could  sleep  through  it  with  the 
dormouse,  and  only  wake  with  him  in  spring,  if 
ever." 

It  was  a  case  of  crossing  a  bridge,  that  was  never 
reached. 

In  June  his  family  were  aroused  to  a  sense  of  his 
weakness  by  a  remark  of  his  own,  —  handing  a  paper 
to  his  grandson,  which  would  require  his  own  signa 
ture,  he  said  :  •'  Don't  delay ;  there  is  no  time  to  be 
lost." 


MRS.   JEFFERSON.  85 

Every  day  he  grew  weaker,  and  dozed  more  ;  mut 
tered  in  his  sleep,  and  always  of  the  events  of  the 
Revolution  —  once,  with  startling  emphasis,  "  Warn 
the  committee  to  be  on  the  alert." 

He  compared  himself  to  an  "  old  watch,  with  a 
pinion  worn  out  here,  and  a  wheel  there,  until  it  can 
go  no  longer." 

As  Fourth  of  July  drew  near,  he  expressed  a  wish 
that  he  might  live  to  see  the  day,  —  so  anxious  was 
he,  that  on  the  third,  he  would  ask  upon  rousing  from 
naps,  "  Is  this  the  Fourth  ?" 

He  died  on  the  nation's  birthday,  1826,  in  the  bliss 
ful]  assurance  that  "  two  seraphs  "  in  heaven  awaited 
his  coming. 

He  was  buried  beneath  the  spreading  oak,  where 
he  had  laid  Dabney  Carr,  his  wife,  and  "his 
Polly." 

Jefferson  appointed  Thomas  Jefferson  Randolph, 
his  grandson,  his  executor.  He  found  the  estate  in 
solvent.  Monticello  was  sold,  and  still  there  was  a 
deficit  of  forty  thousand  dollars.  He  assumed  this 
debt  and  paid  it,  assisted  by  his  daughters,  who 
opened  a  school. 

To  leave  Monticello  was  heartbreaking  to  Mrs. 
Randolph  ;  she  wrote,  "  There  is  a  time  in  human 
suffering  when  succeeding  sorrows  are  but  like  snow 
falling  on  an  iceberg." 

She  proposed  opening  a  young  ladies'  school,  for 


86  MRS.    JEFFERSON. 

the  maintenance  of  herself  and  unmarried  daughters  ; 

o 

but  when  the  legislatures  of  North  Carolina  and 
Louisiana,  each  generously  voted  her  ten  thousand 
dollars,  she  abandoned  the  idea,  and  removed  to 
Washington,  where  she  died  in  1837. 


MRS.  MADISON. 

WHEN  Jefferson  was  at  the  head  of  the  nation,  he 
conducted  the  public  domestic  affairs  mostly  without 
women.  It  was  a  sore  grievance  to  the  society  class, 
for  few  men  had  more  power  to  win  popularity  than 
he.  They  thought  by  woman's  wit  and  woman's  will 
to  baffle  and  master  him.  At  the  place  where  and 
at  the  time  when,  a  drawing-room  had  been  wont  to 
be  held,  they  came  in  full  force.  The  master  was 
out  riding.  A  servant  met  him  on  the  threshold  and 
told  him  the  drawing-room  was  crowded  with  guests. 
Whip  in  hand,  booted  and  spurred,  splashed  with 
mud,  he  entered.  There  was  a  smile  and  a  pleasant 
word  for  each ;  there  was  nothing  lacking  in  his 
genial  high-bred  courtesy  ;  none  could  tell  where  the 
rebuke  came  in,  but  the  thing  was  never  repeated. 

After  eight  years,  he  gracefully  gave  way  to  the 
silent,  solemn  Madison,  in  whose  life  boyhood  and 
youth  seemed  to  have  dropped  out,  and  who  passed 
more  than  forty  years  without  quickening  a  heart 
beat  in  a  woman's  bosom  ;  yet  he  led  into  the  White 
House  a  wife  who  was  the  most  winsome  woman  of 
any  who  has  ever  graced  the  station.  She  has  been 

87 


88  MRS.    MADISON. 

dubbed  "  Queen  Dolly,  the  most  gracious  and  be 
loved  of  all  our  female  sovereigns."  She  won  favors 
from  Congress  never  before  or  since  granted  to 
woman. 

Under  all  Madison's  solemnity  and  unapproachable 
bearing,  he  was  ever  quick  to  discern  and  appreciate 
a  beautiful  woman.  When  he  had  passed  into  the 
thirties,  he  saw  and  admired  Catharine  Floyd,  a  girl 
less  than  half  his  years,  said  to  be  of  great  beauty 
and  vivacity  (his  style).  His  way  of  wooing  was 
to  sit  in  the  room  with  her  and  talk  of  the  public 
debt,  imposts,  etc.,  with  her  father.  When  he  would 
put  a  seal  to  the  wooing,  the  girl,  under  home  pres 
sure,  said  "  Yes,"  when  she  would  rather  have  said, 
-No." 

Now,  Madison  had  a  betrothed,  and  congratula 
tions  poured  in.  Unfortunately  for  him,  while  he 
kept  up  the  political  flow  with  the  father,  there  was 
often  another  guest,  a  young  clergyman,  who  looked 
into  the  girl's  eyes,  and  talked  neither  politics  nor 
shop.  Whatever  the  subject  was,  it  induced  her  to 
break  her  troth.  It  went  hard  with  the  staid,  som 
bre  man,  and  that  he  made  a  moan  is  shown  by  Jef 
ferson's  philosophical  letter  of  condolence,  hinting  of 
the  fishes  whose  flavor  is  always  recommended  to 
one  in  his  strait.  But  mor'e  than  a  decade  went  by 
before  he  angled  again,  and  then  it  was  for  the  sweet 
Quaker  widow  Todd. 


MRS.    MADISON.  89 

Born  in  bright,  free  America,  with  the  blood  of  a 
Scotch  grandame,  an  English  father,  and  an  Irish 
mother  in  her  veins,  she  seemed  to  have  caught  a 
grace  from  each.  When  she  was  a  mere  child,  her 
family  removed  to  Philadelphia,  and  embraced  the 
Quaker  faith.  No  restraints  could  check  the  joyous 
flow  of  spirits  in  Dolly,  nor  the  love  of  carnal 
pleasures. 

The  Scotch  grandmother  had  little  patience  with 
the  new  faith,  and  when  Dolly,  at  times,  put  into 
words  her  longing  to  be,  and  to  dress  like  the 
"  world's  people,"  would  give  her  bits  of  jewelry 
worn  in  her  own  girlhood.  As  the  child  could  not 
wear  or  even  show  them,  she  made  a  bag  and  kept 
them  in  her  bosom,  often  throbbing  with  wicked  de 
light  that  such  things  were  hers.  Alas  !  if  it  were 
sin,  "it  found  her  out,"  and  brought  her  her  first 
great  grief.  A  day  came  when  the  bag  opened,  and 
they  were  left  in  the  woods,  where  Dolly  had  been 
flitting  about. 

If  the  mother  thought  it  wicked  to  wear  a  ribbon 
or  a  bit  of  lace  as  a  foil  to  beauty,  she  took  good  care 
to  preserve  all  nature  had  given.  The  equipment  for 
school  was  a  white  linen  mask,  sewed  to  the  sun- 
bonnet,  and  gloves  drawn  to  the  elbow. 

Early  in  life  her  father  had  had  no  money  cares, 
but  war  had  swept  away  the  savings  of  a  lifetime,  and 
the  stern  man  sank  bodily  and  mentally. 


gO  MRS.    MADISON. 

There  was  a  young  Quaker  lawyer  of  good  estate, 
who  found  Dolly  very  fair,  and  wished  to  possess  her. 
His  plan  of  wooing  was  to  heap  favors  on  the  father; 
with  his  sanction  he  spoke  to  the  girl. 

"  I  never  mean  to  marry,"  was  the  demure  reply. 

Her  father  was  more  persuasive,  and  soon  John 
Todd  bore  away  a  bride.  For  three  years  she  lived 
the  secluded  life  of  a  proper  Quaker  matron,  and  be 
came  the  mother  of  two  babies ;  then  the  yellow 
fever  was  epidemic  in  Philadelphia. 

John  Todd  sent  away  Dolly  and  her  babies,  but 
lingered  himself  to  do  what  a  man  and  a  Christian 
might.  When  he  knew  the  fever  to  be  burning  in 
his  veins,  he  followed  his  wife,  with  the  cry,  "  I  must 
see  her  once  more." 

In  a  few  hours  he  was  dead,  and  soon  Dolly  and  a 
baby  lay  battling  with  the  fever.  When  the  disease 
was  stayed,  Dolly,  with  one  baby,  went  home  to  her 
mother,  now  widowed. 

The  married  years  had  turned  the  shy  girl-bride 
into  a  beautiful  woman.  Men  would  station  them 
selves  where  they  might  see  her  pass.  Her  bride- 
maid  said  :  "  Really,  Dolly,  thou  must  hide  thy  face, 
there  are  so  many  staring  at  thee." 

It  was  in  a  walk  that  her  bright  beauty  first  flashed 
upon  Madison.  Its  effect  is  shown  by  a  note,  written 
the  next  day,  by  Dolly  :  — 

"  Dear  Friend  :   Come  to  me.     Aaron   Burr  says 


MRS.    MADISON.  91 

the  great-little  Madison  has  asked  to  be  brought  to 
see  me  this  evening." 

Dolly  was  in  mulberry  satin,  silk  tulle,  with  curls 
creeping  from  beneath  the  dainty  Quaker  cup,  brim 
ming  with  fun  and  sparkling  with  wit.  Soon  a 
strange  rumor  spread  through  the  city. 

The  President  and  Mrs.  Washington  shared  in  the 
amused  surprise,  and,  to  be  assured,  sent  for  Dolly. 
"  Is  it  true  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Washington. 

In  the  same  manner  with  which  she  had  once  an 
swered  John  Todd,  she  said,  "No,  I  think  not." 
Confusion  and  blushes  told  the  tale  she  would  hide, 
and  Mrs.  Washington  bade  her  "  not  be  ashamed," 
it  was  "an  honor  to  win  a  man  so  great  and  so 
good ;  he  will  make  thee  a  good  husband,  and  all 
the  better  for  being  so  much  older.  We  both  ap 
prove  of  it ;  the  esteem  and  friendship  existing  be 
tween  Mr.  Madison  and  my  husband  is  very  great 
and  we  would  wish  thee  to  be  happy." 

Soon,  with  her  child,  sister,  and  maid,  she  was 
driven  from  the  city  in  an  open  barouche,  and  the 
"  Father  of  the  Constitution,"  mounted,  rode  at  her 
side.  At  the  home  of  her  sister,  who  married  a 
nephew  of  Washington,  she  became  Mrs.  Madison. 
Guests  came  from  far  and  near,  and  the  merry 
making  went  on  for  days.  That  love  had  trans 
formed  the  man  is  proved  by  the  young  girl  guests 
daring  to  cut  bits  of  Mechlin  lace  from  his  shirt 
ruffles,  as  mementoes. 


Q2  MRS.    MADISON. 

Amid  showers  of  rice  and  tossings  of  slippers,  the 
barouche  was  driven  away,  with  the  bridal  pair, 
bound  for  Montpellier,  Madison's  ancestral  estate, 
where  his  parents  still  lived. 

Madison  had  won  the  whole  heart  of  this  brilliant 
woman,  and  he  proved  the  most  devoted  of  husbands, 
an  indulgent  father  to  her  child,  a  tender  son  to  her 
mother,  and  to  her  little  sister  he  gave  a  home,  until 
he  gave  her  away,  a  bride. 

Country  life,  with  abundant  means,  was  for  Mrs. 
Madison,  one  round  of  pleasures.  The  poor  blessed 
her  name,  servants  vied  with  one  another  to  do 
her  bidding  ;  little  negroes  would  trot  after  her,  in 
her  walks  and  call  her  "Sweety,"  and  the  mother  of 
Madison  thought  there  was  never  a  woman  the  equal 
of  "James's  wife." 

When  Jefferson  became  president,  he  made  Madi 
son,  Secretary  of  State,  and  even  then  it  may  be 
said  that  his  wife's  reign  began.  As  there  was  no 
lady  in  the  Executive  Mansion,  this  brilliant,  sunny- 
hearted,  witty  little  quakeress  from  Philadelphia, 
was  the  social  centre  of  the  city.  If  a  "  first  lady  " 
were  needed  in  the  White  House,  Jefferson  sent  his 
compliments,  with  a  note  requesting  the  society  of 
Mrs.  Madison. 

Party  spirit  never  ran  so  high,  but  in  the  drawing- 
room  of  Mrs.  Madison,  under  her  gracious  tact,  men, 
who  would  meet  at  no  other  place  forgot  their  bitter- 


MRS.    MADISON.  93 

ness.  She  made  foes  friends.  Her  civilities  were 
never  influenced  by  party  politics,  and  at  her  social 
board,  where  she  dispensed  her  lavish  hospitality 
with  quiet  dignity  and  elegance  of  manner,  the 
subject  was  never  mentioned. 

The  step  to  the  White  House  was  only  what 
might  be  called  her  coronation.  When  she  was 
congratulated  on  her  husband's  occupation  of  it, 
with  her  ready  wit,  she  answered,  "  I  don't  know 
that  there  is  much  cause  for  congratulation.  The 
President  of  the  United  States  generally  comes  in  at 
the  iron  gate  and  goes  out  at  the  waeping  willows." 
At  that  time,  there  was  a  side  entrance,  a  stone 
archway,  with  a  weeping-willow  on  each  side  of  it. 

Whatever  the  end  was  to  be,  the  beginning  was 
very  brilliant.  Mrs.  Madison  in  buff  velvet  and 
bird-of-paradise  plume,  looked  and  moved  a  queen. 
Madison  was  very  pale,  and  more  solemn  than  usual. 
Jefferson  was  all  life  and  exhilaration.  The  Em 
bargo  and  troubles  with  France  and  England  might 
lead  him  under  the  willows,  but  then,  he  had  taught 
the  Bashaw  of  Tripoli  manners,  which  all  Europe 
had  failed  to  do  ;  the  purchase  of  Louisiana  was  his 
crown  of  glory,  and  Martha,  grandchildren,  and 
Monticello  were  before  him. 

Now,  there  was  a  Republican  Court  in  earnest. 
Drawing-rooms  were  held,  which  were  never  dull  nor 
tiresome.  Washington  Irving  would  have  it,  that 


94  MRS.    MADISON. 

he  met  there  the  "  merry  wives  of  Windsor."  Din 
ners  were  given,  which  the  English  minister,  in 
derision,  called  harvest-home  feasts.  Mrs.  Madison 
would  smile,  thank  God  for  abundance,  and  the 
unlikeness  of  her  court  to  that  of  the  shamefully 
dissolute  one  of  the  Regent  of  England.  She 
returned,  like  Mrs.  Adams,  all  visits  paid  her,  and 
organized  "  dove  parties,"  composed  of  the  wives  of 
cabinet  officers  and  foreign  ministers,  which  were 
very  gay  and  popular.  She  had  high-bred  airs  and 
refinement,  was  beautiful  in  form  and  features, 
always  richly  and  elegantly  dressed,  as  became  her 
position.  At  her  marriage,  by  her  husband's  re 
quest,  she  laid  aside  the  Quaker  dress,  retaining  only 
the  dainty  cap,  which  was  very  becoming,  but  even 
that  was  put  aside  in  the  Executive  Mansion.  The 
Quakers  charged  her  with  "  an  undue  fondness  for 
the  things  of  this  world,"  but  by  her  sweetness  and 
affability  she  retained  their  favor.  She  was  remark 
able  for  rarely  forgetting  a  name,  would  even 
remember  little  incidents  connected  with  her  guests. 
The  first  term,  which  had  passed  for  Mrs.  Madison 
in  unclouded  happiness,  was  drawing  to  a  close.  It 
was  said  that  Jefferson  chose  his  own  successor,  but 
he  had  passed  the  government  to  him  with  Pan 
dora's  box  wide  open,  and  had  also  reduced  the 
means  of  stamping  out  the  evils,  which  had  escaped 
and  were  working  bitter  results. 


MRS.    MADISON.  95 

George  III.  was  harmless  in  his  padded  cell,  but 
his  son,  who  resembled  him  in  everything  but  his 
virtues,  retained  the  old  ministry,  and  a  heavy  hand 
was  laid  upon  the  new  and  struggling  nation. 

British  emissaries  had  stirred  up  an  Indian  war  in 
the  West  and  paid  bounties  for  scalps  ;  on  the  sea, 
they  had  captured  the  vessels  of  the  East,  and  had 
impressed  American  seamen.  The  people  hated 
England  and  clamored  for  war.  Madison  was  a 
statesman,  and  knew  that  the  best  interests  of  the 
country  demanded  peace.  Did  he  pursue  it,  he  must 
lay  down  his  sceptre. 

The  opposition  jeered,  and  one  member  declared 
in  Congress,  that  "  the  President  could  not  be  kicked 
into  a  fight,"  which  passed  into  a  proverb.  He  was 
human  and  the  stakes  were  high.  War  was  de 
clared,  and  a  second  term  began,  not  smooth  or 
uneventful. 

Through  want  of  military  skill  or  foresight,  an 
order  was  given  to  send  to  Michigan  a  general 
never  in  action,  unnerved  at  the  thought  of  blood 
shed,  with  a  handful  of  raw  troops  and  raw  militia, 
to  invade  Canada.  He  showed  the  white  feather  to 
his  men  as  they  stood  before  their  guns  with  lighted 
matches  —  to  the  enemy  a  white  tablecloth  before 
a  gun  was  fired.  Instead  of  taking  Canada,  Canada 
took  Michigan. 

Two  months  later  there  was  another  advance   on 


g6  MRS.    MADISON. 

Canada  at  Queenstown  Heights  ;  powder  and  can 
non  balls  did  come  into  use,  but  it  ended  in  defeat 
and  disgrace. 

Hull,  who  had  surrendered  Michigan,  had  a 
nephew,  the  captain  of  the  "  Constitution,"  who 
poured  his  broadsides  with  the  intent  of  bringing 
blood  and  doing  mischief,  and  astonished  the  coun 
try  by  a  naval  victory,  which  somewhat  retrieved 
the  name  from  disgrace.  The  country  was  in  one 
blaze  of  enthusiasm.  Privateers  fitted  out  from 
every  port,  scoured  every  sea,  and  inflicted  heavy 
injuries  upon  the  "mistress  of  the  seas." 

Canada  was  allowed  a  year  to  recuperate  from  the 
invasion  of  her  frontiers,  and  then,  to  make  sure 
work,  a  triple  force  was  sent.  Harrison  by  land 
and  Perry  on  the  Lakes  covered  themselves  with 
glory,  not  by  taking  Canada  but  by  rescuing  what 
Hull  had  so  basely  flung  into  English  hands. 
Perry's  despatch  to  headquarters  was  as  laconic  and 
graphic  as  Cesar's,  when  he  conquered  the  King 
of  Pontus. 

There  was  a  fresh  complication.  The  Creeks  had 
donned  the  war-paint  and  started  on  the  war-path. 
Jackson,  disabled  by  wounds  received  in  a  personal 
fray,  managed  by  iron  will  and  military  skill,  aided 
by  his  majestic  mien  and  blazing  eyes,  to  wipe  out 
that  difficulty  and  end  that  nation.  Ah  !  If  he  had 
been  sent  to  take  Canada  ! 


MRS.     MADISON.  97 

In  the  third  year  of  the  war,  there  was  another 
attempt  to  invade  that  country. 

Scott  won  his  spurs,  and  had  there  been  a  suitable 
force,  his  victory  might  have  been  followed  up  ;  as 
it  was,  the  Americans,  with  an  inferior  force,  had 
simply  whipped  the  British  at  Lundy's  Lane. 

Canadians  tried  invasion  on  the  borders  of  Lake 
Champlain  —  their  soldiers  were  veterans,  trained 
by  Wellington.  Result :  They  fought,  aided  by  the 
British  fleet  —  lost  the  fleet  —  ran  away,  leaving 
wounded  and  military  stores  behind  them. 

The  British  blockaded  and  ravaged  the  Atlantic 
coast  from  North  to  South.  Lighthouses  only 
benefited  the  enemy,  and  the  lighting  of  the  lamps 
was  forbidden. 

The  crowning  humiliation  came,  when  the  British 
sailed  up  the  Potomac  and  burned  Washington. 
Madison  was  called  away  the  day  before ;  his  .wife 
lingered  until  the  sound  of  the  cannons  was  heard, 
even  then  stopped  to  secure  the  picture  of  Wash 
ington  painted  by  Stuart ;  the  Declaration  of  Inde 
pendence  was  in  her  bag.  She  said,  "  I  lived  a 
lifetime  in  those  last  moments."  There  was  not 
even  the  semblance  of  an  army  to  protect  the  na 
tional  capital,  though  the  President  was  warned  two 
months  in  advance,  that  the  British  were  preparing 
to  take  it. 

Admiral  Cockburn,  at  the  head  of  his  men,  entered 


98  MRS.    MADISON. 

the  Capitol,  mounted  the  speaker's  chair  in  the 
Hall  of  Representatives,  and  shouted  :  "  Shall  this 
harbor  of  Yankee  Democracy  be  burned  ?  All  for 
it  will  say,  Aye ! "  And  a  thousand  voices  ans 
wered,  "  Aye  !  "  It  was  a  vote,  and  it  was  done. 

Proud  of  the  night's  achievements,  they  would 
repeat  them  at  Baltimore,  and  so  they  sailed  away. 
The  Baltimoreans  were  roused  and  made  so  vigorous 
a  defence  that  the  enemy  retired,  with  the  loss  of 
General  Ross,  commander  of  the  land  forces. 

During  the  bombardment,  the  sight  of  the  flag 
waving  over  the  Fort,  making  such  a  plucky  defence, 
inspired  Francis  S.  Key,  a  prisoner  on  board 
the  British  fleet,  to  write  the  "  Star  Spangled 
Banner." 

The  pusillanimous  way  in  which  the  war  was  con 
ducted,  roused  the  nation  to  fury.  New  England 
felt  equal  to  taking  care  of  herself,  but  she  was 
going  to  give  no  more  help  in  the  taking  of  Canada. 
The  President  might  give  up  the  capital  without 
putting  forth  his  hand,  but  her  people  were  not  of 
Virginia  stock  and  would  not  submit  tamely  to  the 
burning  of  her  sea-ports.  A  convention  met  at 
Hartford  and  made  some  propositions  to  be  laid 
before  the  government  of  the  United  States.  There 
was  a  very,  plcxhr  rmimation  of  what  measures  would 

_~- -"^ 

be' taken  if  her  propositions  were  not  acceded  to. 
The  peace-loving   and  war-making  President  was 


MRS.    MADISON.  99 

more  distraught  than  ever.  Civil  war  was  more  to 
be  dreaded  than  foreign. 

Opportunely,  peace  was  declared,  and  we  are 
spared  from  knowing  to  what  lengths  New  England 
would  have  gone.  A  Hartford  Convention  Feder 
alist  and  a  Southern  Secessionist,  both  terms  of 
obloquy,  mean  about  the  same  thing.  People  who 
live  in  glass  houses  shouldn't  throw  stones. 

Jackson  had  fought  his  famous  battle  ;  fought  it 
after  peace  was  signed,  signed  without  England's 
giving  up  the  right  of  impressment  —  America's 
grievance,  for  which  she  went  to  war. 

If  Madison's  fame  were  tarnished,  Queen  Dolly 
held  a  more  dazzling  court  than  ever,  and  was  called 
the  most  popular  person  in  the  United  States. 
Traditions  and  sweet  memories  of  her  last  New 
Year's  levee  still  linger  about  Washington.  She 
was  dressed  in  pink  satin,  elaborately  trimmed  with 
ermine,  gold  clasps  around  her  waist  and  wrists, 
white  satin  turban  with  a  crescent  in  front,  topped 
with  towering  ostrich  feathers,  which  were  said  to 
gleam  above  the  rout  like  the  white  plumes  of 
Navarre.  She  seemed  to  invest  the  city  itself  with 
a  courtly  tone  and  something  of  a  royal  flavor  clung 
to  the  manners  and  presence  of  the  heads  of  the 
government. 

The  troubled  administration  closed  amid  the  social 
pyrotechnics  of  Queen  Dolly.  Madison  retired  to 


IOO  MRS.    MADISON. 

Montpellier  and  maintained,  like  Washington  and 
Jefferson,  old  Virginia  hospitality.  His  wife  was  a 
magnet  who  drew  about  her,  not  only  the  nation's 
best  and  distinguished  guests  from  abroad,  but 
country  people  would  beg  the  privilege  of  seeing 
her,  and  one  farmer's  wife  from  a  distance  asked 
to  kiss  her,  that  her  girls  might  tell  of  it  in  the 
years  to  come. 

Madison  had  a  suffering,  lingering  illness.  She 
tended  him  with  most  wifely  devotion,  and  for  eight 
months  never  went  beyond  her  own  grounds.  At 
his  death,  she  thought  the  only  work  left  her  to  do 
was  to  arrange  his  letters  and  manuscripts,  which 
both  parties  in  Congress  voted  to  purchase,  because 
it  was  she  who  offered  them.  She  was  given  the 
franking  privilege,  allowed  a  seat  on  the  floor  of 
Congress,  a  favor  accorded  to  no  other  woman. 
The  flirtations  of  that  august  body  with  Mrs.  Madi 
son  became  a  topic  of  the  press. 

To  be  among  her  old  friends,  she  returned  to 
Washington,  where  it  was  not  only  deemed  an  honor 
to  be  her  guest,  but  to  be  a  guest  where  she  was 
present.  She  was  the  President's  guest  on  the 
steamer  "Princeton"  when  the  great  cannon,  called 
the  Peacemaker,  exploded.  Rumors  of  the  accident 
went  abroad,  and  crowds  assembled  at  her  house, 
anxious  to  be  assured  of  her  safety. 

She  preserved  her  presence  of  mind  in  the  midst 


MRS.    MADISON.  IOI 

of  that  dreadful  scene,  assisted  in  the  care  of  the 
wounded,  soothed  their  friends,  went  home,  walked 
before  her  guests,  pale  as  death,  smiling  but  silent. 
At  no  time  could  she  speak  of  it,  or  hear  it  spoken  of. 

She  had  never  been  a  Quaker  at  heart.  Hers  was 
a  nature  to  appreciate,  and  a  heart  to  love  the 
splendid  ritual  of  the  Episcopal  Church,  of  which 
in  these  later  years  she  became  a  member. 

A  dissolute  son  had  been  the  one  shadow  of  her 
life,  and  the  shadow  deepened  in  her  widowed  years. 
He  had  spent  his  own  patrimony,  —  Madison  had 
many  times  paid  his  debts,  —  and  now  he  brought 
straitened  means  upon  his  mother,  which  forced  her 
to  sell  Montpellier.  With  the  glossing  of  a  mother's 
love,  she  would  pathetically  say:  "Forgive  my  boy 
his  eccentricities  ;  his  heart  is  all  right." 

In  advanced  years,  this  brilliant  woman,  so  popular 
and  beloved,  a  queen  of  society,  took  Solomon's 
view  of  life,  and  thus  expressed  it  to  a  troubled 
young  girl:  "My  dear,  there  is  nothing,  nothing 
in  this  world  worth  caring  for." 

With  a  sore,  grieved  heart,  she  died  at  the  age  of 
eighty-two,  the  name  of  her  "poor  boy  "  on  her  lips 
at  the  last.  Two  years  later,  Payne  Todd  died  of 
typhoid  fever,  having  just  grace  enough  to  be  sorry 
for  his  misdoings.  In  his  illness,  he  was  tended 
by  the  faithful  servants  of  his  mother,  and  they 
alone  followed  him  to  his  grave. 


IO2  MRS.    MADISON. 

Until  ruined  by  dissipation,  he  had  a  markedly 
handsome  face,  and  the  gracious  manners  of  his 
mother.  He  accompanied  the  American  Commis 
sioners  to  Russia  and  Ghent,  and  at  each  court 
he  was  treated  as  if  he  were  a  prince  of  the  blood 
royal.  In  his  last  years,  Clay  asked  him  if  he  re 
membered  when  he  was  admitted  to  the  floor  at  a 
royal  ball  and  danced  with  a  Czar's  daughters,  while 
he,  as  a  commissioner,  was  only  allowed  in  the  gal 
lery  as  a  spectator. 


MRS.   MONROE. 

Miss  ELIZA  KORTWRIGHT  was  the  daughter  of  an 
American  who  was  loyal  to  England,  and  through 
the  war  of  Independence  fought  under  her  banner. 
When  loyalty  would  no  longer  avail,  he  settled  in 
New  York,  and  became  a  citizen  under  the  laws  of 
that  State. 

In  the  year  of  Washington's  inauguration,  his 
daughters  were  among  the  belles  of  that  brilliant 
season.  The  first  mention  of  Miss  Eliza,  apart  from 
her  sisters,  is  in  a  note  of  Monroe's  to  Madison, 
expressing  a  wish  to  introduce  him  to  a  young  lady 
who  would  soon  become  an  adopted  citizen  of 
Virginia.  Three  months  later  he  wrote  to  Jefferson, 
breaking  promises  of  visiting,  and  settling  plans  for 
the  future,  and  from  what  follows,  we  gather  that  his 
excuse  lay  in  the  fact  that  he  had  married  a  wife. 
In  the  gush  of  friendship  and  devotion  which  Jeffer 
son  so  often  inspired,  he  declared  his  intention  of 
making  a  home  where  he  can-  enjoy  the  com 
panionship  of  the  master  of  Monticello. 

Mrs.  Monroe  must  have  been  a  very  quiet,  do 
mestic  woman,  for  while  private  letters  and  the  press 

103 


IO4  MRS.    MONROE. 

teem  with  notices  of  the  wives  of  the  earlier  presi 
dents,  we  find  little  mention  of  her. 

Mrs.  Adams,  in  her  printed  letters,  says  the  ladies 
of  the  Republican  Court  were  the  most  beautiful 
women  in  the  world,  and  in  this  respect,  Mrs. 
Monroe  was  no  exception.  After  four  years  in 
Congress,  Monroe  was  sent  as  envoy  to  Paris,  and 
there  the  sobriquet  for  his  wife  was  "  la  belle  Ameri 
ca  ine" 

It  is  in  Paris  that  we  find  the  only  link  which 
connects  her  with  her  husband's  public  life.  His 
appointment  came  just  after  the  fall  of  Robespierre. 
He  had  not  then  acquired  the  wisdom  which  came 
with  years.  His  instructions  were  to  attend  exclu 
sively  to  the  interests  of  his  own  newborn  and 
struggling  government.  From  the  first,  he  threw 
his  whole  soul  into  the  affairs  of  France,  trying  to 
become  a  sister  republic. 

Americans  did  not  particularly  love  France,  who 
only  sent  them  aid  to  thwart  her  hereditary  foe. 
What  was  begun  as  shrewd  policy,  Charles  X., — 
dethroned,  an  exile,  sailing  away  in  an  American 
ship, — declared  the  greatest  mistake  France  ever 
made.  But  Lafayette,  Rochambeau,  DeKalb,  and  a 
host  of  others,  lived  in  the  hearts  of  the  nation. 
They  had  proffered  their  services  without  pay,  and 
followed  Louis  XVI. 's  generous  orders  to  yield 
precedence  to  American  officers. 


MRS.    MONROE.  IO5 

Lafayette  had  been  foremost,  and  his  young  and 
doting  wife,  putting  self  aside,  had  urged  him  on. 

When  it  was  told  that  he  was  in  an  Austrian 
dungeon,  his  wife  and  children  imprisoned  in  Paris, 
Monroe,  forgetting  that,  as  an  accredited  minister, 
he  should  express  no  personal  feelings,  threw  pru 
dence  to  the  winds. 

To  interfere  in  the  Marchioness's  behalf,  and  fail, 
was  to  seal  her  fate.  He  proposed  to  Mrs.  Monroe 
that  she  should  go  to  the  prison  and  try  to  obtain 
an  interview.  Retiring  and  diffident  as  she  was,  her 
woman's  heart  was  stirred,  and  an  unnatural  daring, 
inspired  by  zeal,  carried  her  to  success. 

Monroe  was  the  only  foreign  envoy  received  by 
the  government,  and  the  coming  of  his  wife  in  a 
carriage,  on  which  were  the  emblems  of  his  rank, 
aroused  the  awe  and  respect  of  the  gaoler.  Ex 
pecting  a  refusal,  Mrs.  Monroe  proffered  her  request 
as  one  that  she  had  a  right  to  demand.  She  was 
asked  to  the  reception-room,  and  in  a  short  time  the 
prisoner  came,  accompanied  by  a  guard.  For  hours, 
she  had  been  listening  for  the  steps  of  the  gen 
darmes,  to  take  her  to  the  guillotine.  When  she 
was  told  that  she  had  a  visitor,  and  that  visitor 
proved  to  be  the  wife  of  the  American  ambassador, 
she  could  only  sink  and  sob  at  her  feet.  In  the 
presence  of  a  sentinel,  little  could  be  said,  but  as 
Mrs.  Monroe  rose  to  leave,  in  a  firm,  steady 


106  MRS.    MONROE. 

voice,  she  promised  to  repeat  her  visit  in  the 
morning. 

That  evening  was  really  the  one  fixed  for  the 
execution,  but  a  council  was. called,  in  which  it  was 
held  that  the  fate  of  the  woman  was  of  little  moment, 
but  to  risk  the  displeasure  of  the  American  minister, 
and  the  American  people,  would  be  serious. 

When  the  morning  came,  the  prison  doors  opened, 
and  she  was  free. 

Sending  her  boy  to  Washington  — whose  name  he 
bore  —  she,  in  disguise,  made  her  way  to  Olmutz, 
and  begged  to  share  her  husband's  fate.  If  she 
crossed  the  threshold,  there  was  to  be  no  return, 
and  the  loving  woman  accepted  the  cruel  terms. 

More  than  three  years  in  a  dungeon  ten  feet  deep, 
where  the  sun  never  sent  a  ray,  had  lain  the  friend 
of  America,  in  chains.  Twenty-two  more  weary 
months  dragged  on,  but  these  were  cheered  by  the 
presence  of  his  wife. 

As  soon  as  Washington  was  free  fr^m  his  official 
position,  he  appealed  to  Napoleon,  and,  backed  by 
his  power,  gained  their  release. 

The  conqueror  of  Italy  declared  that  the  most 
difficult  point  to  settle  with  the  Austrians  was  the 
giving  up  of  the  prisoners  at  Olmutz.  The  Empe 
ror  claimed  as  an  excuse,  that  "his  hands  were  tied" 
—  tied  by  whom?  'His  allies;  which  only  meant 
England.  In  vain  had  Fox,  supported  by  Wilber- 


MRS.    MONROE.  IC>7 

force  and  Sheridan,  pled  the  prisoner's  cause  with 
impassioned  eloquence  before  the  British  Parliament. 

It  was  the  will  of  Parliament  that  the  Republican, 
who  had  helped  to  tear  from  the  English  crown  its 
brightest  jewel  should  lie  in  a  dungeon  in  chains. 
He  was  the  first  leader  upon  whom  it  had  had  the 
power  to  wreak  vengeance,  and  the  Emperor  of  Aus 
tria  was  given  to  understand  that  its  ministers  enjoyed 
it.  If  the  release  displeased  England,  the  more  it 
pleased  Napoleon  to  insist. 

Monroe's  second  exploit  had  been  to  procure  the 
release  of  Thomas  Paine  from  prison,  and  keep  him 
ten  months  in  his  own  house.  Jefferson  said  :  "  If 
the  soul  of  Monroe  were  turned  inside  out,  not  a 
spot  would  be  found  upon  it,"  but  his  enthusiastic 
espousal  of  the  French  Revolution,  the  using  of  his 
official  position  for  the  benefit  of  political  prisoners, 
caused  his  recall,  as  a  disgraced  minister.  In  all  his 
after  life,  though  crowned  with  the  highest  honors, 
he  felt  the  sting  of  that  recall  as  he  felt  the  bullet, 
never  extracted,  received  at  the  battle  of  Trenton. 

Upon  his  return,  the  home  life  which  he  had  prom 
ised  Jefferson,  when  he  made  Eliza  Kortwright  his 
bride,  began  in  Virginia.  He  was  chosen  governor 
of  the  state  and  held  the  office  three  years,  but  in  no 
way  can  we  find  any  mention  of  Mrs.  Monroe. 

Monroe's  effusive  sympathy  when  minister,  and 
consequent  recall,  had  made  him  popular  in  France, 


IO8  MRS.    MONROE. 

and  when  Jefferson  sought  to  gain  Louisiana,  he 
sent  Monroe  as  special  minister  to  Napoleon,  with 
carte  blancJie  to  negotiate  for  what  has  been  called 
"the  largest  transfer  of  real  estate  which  was  ever 
made,  since  Adam  was  presented  with  the  fee-simple 
of  Paradise." 

Again  Mrs.  Monroe,  in  her  quiet,  gentle  way, 
moved  in  the  most  polished  court  in  Europe,  —  her 
children  the  companions  of  Josephine's.  The  elder 
daughter  was  at  the  celebrated  school  of  Madame 
Campan  with  Hortense,  and  they  formed  an  intimacy 
which  lasted  through  life. 

From  Paris,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Monroe  went  to  Eng 
land,  but  her  ministers  were  so  haughtily  arrogant  in 
their  claims,  all  negotiations  failed. 

England  had  not  yet  learned  to  treat  the  minister 
of  her  lost  colonies  with  respect.  The  dissolute 
court  (where  the  wife  of  the  Regent,  who  had  been 
pronounced  by  Parliament  an  innocent  woman,  was 
a  repudiated  wife)  did  not  accord  with  Mrs.  Mon 
roe's  dignified  sense  of  propriety. 

From  London  they  went  to  Madrid,  from  thence 
to  Paris,  leaving  the  boundaries  of  the  Spanish  pos 
sessions  unadjusted. 

They  were  fortunate  in  being  present  at  the  grand 
pageantry  of  Napoleon's  coronation,  —  he  astonished 
the  world  by  crowning  himself,  after  summoning 
Pius  VII.  from  Rome  for  the  purpose. 


MRS.    MONROE. 

Another  ineffectual  attempt  was  made  to  treat 
with  Great  Britain,  but  the  firing  upon  the  Chesa 
peake,  in  our  own  waters,  so  complicated  affairs  that 
Monroe  was  recalled,  at  his  own  request.  Even 
then,  though  he  had  taken  so  active  and  successful 
a  part  in  the  great  real-estate  purchase,  the  Ameri 
can  people  could  discern  about  him  no  halo  of  glory. 
The  baffled  negotiations  with  England  had  come 
later,  and  they  forgot,  or  were  ignorant  of  England's 
maxim,  "  Might  makes  right."  With  wounded 
pride,  Monroe  retired  to  Oak  Hill,  the  Virginian 
home. 

Mrs.  Monroe  resumed  her  quiet,  country  life  with 
delight.  It  was  a  short-lived  rest,  for  her  husband 
was  chosen  Governor  of  Virginia,  which  office  he 
soon  resigned  to  become  Secretary  of  State. 

Cheerfully,  Mrs.  Monroe  acquiesced  in  the  return 
to  Washington,  never  submitting  to  a  separation 
from  her  husband,  until  the  capital  was  threatened 
by  the  British  ;  then,  in  anxiety  for  her  children,  she 
retired  to  Oak  Hill. 

When  the  war  policy  of  taking  Quebec,  and  dicta 
ting  to  England  terms  of  peace  at  Halifax,  had  been 
abandoned,  —  when  the  national  capital  had  been 
burned,  poor  Madison,  who  could  not  count  for 
even  a  piece  of  a  man  in  war,  tried  to  double  his 
efficient  Secretary  of  State,  by  making  him  Secre 
tary  of  War  as  well. 


IIO  MRS.    MONROE. 

Monroe  was  a  man  of  courage,  ability,  and  withal 
a  soldier,  who  had  done  good  service  on  many  a  hard- 
fought  field.  There  was  no  more  supineness.  It 
was  known  that  the  English  were  preparing  for  a 
descent  upon  the  Southern  coast.  Troops  were 
raised,  and  the  secretary  even  pledged  his  private 
fortune  to  equip  them.  The  command  was  given  to 
Jackson,  who  panted  to  meet  the  British,  no  matter 
how  unequal  were  the  forces. 

Peace  was  signed  and  the  southern  battle  was 
fought.  The  news  of  peace  was  received  in  America 
with  transports  of  joy,  even  though  it  was  signed  at 
Ghent  instead  of  Halifax.  Half  the  people  thought 
we  had  been  fighting  the  wrong  party,  and  that 
Napoleon  had  been  more  perfidious  and  insulting 
than  England.  The  victory  at  New  Orleans  made 
the  people  still  more  delirious,  and  they  began  to 
wish  that  peace  had  never  been  signed. 

In  1817,  the  nation  recognized  Monroe's  great 
services,  and  he  became  the  Chief  Magistrate,  dubbed 
as  the  "last  of  the  cocked  hats."  Four  years  later 
he  received  every  electoral  vote  save  one.  The 
man  who  threw  it,  gave  as  his  only  reason  a  deter 
mination  to  have  no  man  honored  as  Washington 
had  been. 

The  rebuilding  of  the  White  House  had  been  com 
pleted  in  time  for  his  inaugural  festivities ;  furniture 
from  a  royal  palace  in  France,  the  crowns  upon  it 


MRS.    MONROE.  Ill 

being  replaced  by  eagles,  was  placed  in  the  East 
Room,  and  everything  arranged  on  a  more  elegant 
footing  than  before. 

Following  the  dazzling  "  Queen  Dolly,"  Mrs. 
Monroe  made  heroic  exertions,  but  entertaining 
was  not  her  forte.  An  Englishman  wrote  home 
that  the  "  new  lady "  was  regal  looking,  retaining 
traces  of  her  early  beauty,  had  polished  manners, 
but  her  dinners  were  tedious,  and  her  levees  formal, 
from  which  all  were  glad  to  escape. 

The  country  was  at  peace,  and  every  industry 
began  to  flourish.  The  cotton  gin  had  given  an 
impetus  to  the  raising  of  the  chief  product  of  the 
South,  which  even  in  those  days  gave  it  kingly 
importance.  Monroe's  administration  was  called 
"  the  era  of  good  feeling,"  but  this  cotton  raising 
necessitated  negro  labor.  A  new  state  knocked  at 
the  door  of  the  Union,  and  claimed  that  her  interests 
demanded  that  the  institution  peculiar  to  the  South, 
should  be  allowed  her.  The  North,  who  had  been  so 
insubordinate  in  the  last  administration,  knew  just 
what  should  be  done  in  this  case.  The  state  might 
be  a  star,  but  it  was  not  to  be  weighted  with  slavery. 
The  Slave  States,  in  sympathy  with  the  sister  waiting 
to  come  in,  raised  the  cry  of  secession,  civil  war,  and 
bloodshed !  New  England  was  shocked !  The 
giants  had  not  reached  their  prime,  —  according  to 
Josiah  Quincy  "  their  pin-feathers  were  not  yet 


112  MRS.    MONROE. 

grown,"  • —but  on  the  floor  of  Congress  they  battled 
with  their  might  over  this  mad  scheme.  One  of  the 
pin-featherless  ones  was  ready  to  give  and  take  — 
this  state  might  buy  and  sell  humanity,  but  nobody 
north  of  her  most  southern  limit  was  to  have  the 
same  privilege.  The  South  consented,  on  the  prin 
ciple  that,  "  sufficient  unto  the  day  is  the  evil 
thereof." 

So  Missouri  took  her  place,  and  people  began  to 
feel  good  again,  but  it  made  the  tiny  crack  which 
shot  this  way  and  that,  until  the  Union  was  so 
shaky  that  the  choosing  of  a  president  sent  it  all  to 
pieces  in  1861. 

It  seems  as  if  the  mantle  of  a  prophet  must  have 
fallen  upon  Jefferson,  for  he  wrote:  "The  Missouri 
question  is  the  most  portentous  one  that  ever 
threatened  the  Union.  In  the  gloomiest  moments 
of  the  Revolutionary  War,  I  never  had  any 
apprehension  equal  to  that  I  feel  from  this 
source." 

Florida  Indians  began  to  make  inroads  on  the 
Border  States,  and  Jackson  was  sent  to  drive  them 
back.  With  his  usual  skill  in  provoking  a  fight  and 
coming  out  of  it  triumphantly,  he  did  this  time 
with  Spain,  capturing  one  of  her  towns.  Out  of 
his  reckless  disregard  of  laws  resulted  the  treaty 
by  which  we  gained  Florida.  On  the  principle  that 
"All's  well  that  ends  well,"  he  escaped  punishment, 


MRS.    MONROE.  113 

though  he  had  compromised  the  character  and 
almost  the  peace  of  the  country. 

Early  in  Monroe's  administration,  he  determined 
that  if  foreign  nations  again  interfered  with  Amer 
ica,  he  would  not  be  caught  as  Madison  had  been, 
ignorant  of  the  capabilities  of  the  country ;  there 
fore,  he  made  a  progress  through  the  North  and 
East,  and  visited  every  military  post,  which  brought 
him  in  contact  with  the  people  and  added  greatly  to 
his  popularity. 

He  travelled  in  the  undress  uniform  of  a  Revolu 
tionary  officer  —  blue  military  coat  of  homespun, 
buff  doeskin  breeches,  cocked  hat,  and  a  black  rib 
bon  cockade. 

Mrs.  Monroe's  health  failed,  and  in  the  latter  term 
of  her  husband's  administration  she  was  rarely  seen. 
In  1824,  she  had  the  honor  of  receiving  and  enter 
taining  Lafayette  as  the  nation's  guest. 

Monroe  promulgated  the  great  doctrine  that  has 
ever  since  been  stamped  with  his  name,  which  means 
that  there  is  to  be  no  picking  nor  stealing  on  the 
American  Continent  by  European  nations.  The 
French  thought  to  test  the  strength  of  it  in  Mexico, 
but  the  ignominious  withdrawal  of  their  troops  and 
the  execution  of  Maximilian  was  the  result.  Had 
the  Mexicans  been  slow  of  hand,  United  States 
troops  were  ready  to  step  to  the  front. 

Monroe  retired,  crowned  with  honors.     Mrs.  Mon- 


114  MRS.    MONROE. 

roe  introduced  the  custom  of  returning  no  visits, 
which  has  been  followed  by  all  her  successors  in  the 
White  House. 

Oak  Hill  is  in  the  neighborhood  of  Monticello  and 
Montpellier,  and  Monroe  shared  with  Jefferson  and 
Madison  the  burden  of  entertaining  guests  who, 
from  friendship  or  curiosity,  thronged  their  homes. 

Congress  had  never  reimbursed  Monroe  for  the 
money  he  had  advanced  in  the  war  of  1812.  Public 
duties  had  so  engrossed  him,  that  he  had  given  no 
attention  to  his  private  affairs,  and,  like  Jefferson,  he 
was  burdened  with  debt. 

Mrs.  Monroe's  two  daughters  were  married  and 
lived  at  a  distance.  Her  feeble  health  gave  her  an 
excuse  to  live  the  recluse  life  she  enjoyed.  Five 
years  after  her  husband's  retirement,  she  was  seized 
by  a  sudden  illness,  which  proved  fatal. 

Monroe's  narrow  means  compelled  him  to  give 
up  his  home,  and  he  went  to  New  York,  to  the  resi 
dence  of  his  son-in-law,  Mr.  Samuel  L.  Gouverneur. 
While  Congress  was  discussing  some  means  for  his 
relief,  he  died  on  the  Fourth  of  July — a  year  after 
the  death  of  his  wife  —  "  poor  in  money,  but  rich  in 
honor." 

He  was  buried  first  in  what  was  known  as  the 
Old  Marble  Cemetery,  from  which  the  body  was 
afterwards  removed  to  the  Gouverneur  family  vault, 
in  the  Second  Street  Cemetery. 


MRS.    MONROE.  115 

The  year  1858  —  the  one  hundredth  anniversary 
of  Mr.  Monroe's  birth  —  was  thought  to  be.  a  fitting 
time  to  remove  his  remains  from  the  place  where 
they  had  lain  for  twenty-seven  years,  to  their  final 
resting-place,  in  the  capital  of  the  state  which  gave 
him  birth. 

The  New  York  city  government  determined  that 
the  removal  should  be  conducted  with  great  mag 
nificence,  and  also  to  make  the  occasion  one  of 
kindly  and  fraternal  feeling  between  the  authorities 
and  volunteer  soldiery  of  New  York  and  those  of 
the  State  of  Virginia,  the  Secretary  of  State 
offered  the  revenue  cutter,  "  Harriet  Lane,"  to  bear 
the  remains  to  Richmond. 

July  second,  at  five  in  the  morning  (an  hour  least 
likely  to  attract  attention)  the  Committee  from  Vir 
ginia,  the  New  York  Committee,  the  surviving  rela 
tives  of  the  family,  and  some  others,  assembled  at 
the  cemetery. 

A  little  wren-house,  which  had  long  served  as  the 
only  thing  to  mark  the  spot,  still  stood  there. 

The  body  was  taken  to  the  Church  of  the  Annun 
ciation,  and  left  there  under  guard. 

In  the  afternoon  it  was  removed  to  the  City  Hall, 
escorted  by  one  of  the  largest  and  most  imposing 
military  and  civic  processions  the  citizens  of  New 
York  had  ever  witnessed.  During  the  march  the 
bells  were  tolled,  the  flags  in  the  port  were  at  half- 


I  1 6  MRS.    MONROE. 

mast,  and  minute  guns  were  fired.  The  Eighth 
Regiment  stood  guard  during  the  night.  In  the 
morning  the  Seventh  Regiment  escorted  the  remains 
to  the  steamer,  and  formally  delivered  them  to  the 
Virginians.  The  Seventh  chartered  another  steamer, 
and  followed  the  "  Harriet  Lane  "  to  Richmond. 

Governor  Wise,  with  the  military  and  city  digni 
taries,  was  at  the  wharf  to  receive  them. 

The  body  was  taken  to  the  cemetery,  where  the 
Governor  made  an  address,  and  prayers  were  offered. 
While  the  troops  rested  on  their  arms,  it  was  low 
ered  into  the  grave. 

The  nation  has  had  many  a  pompous  funeral  since, 
but  at  that  day  there  had  never  been  seen  one  con 
ducted  with  so  much  magnificence  and  ceremony. 

The  Seventh  Regiment  had  a  taste  of  Old  Vir 
ginia  hospitality,  were  served  in  the  most  sumptuous 
style,  and  left,  each  side  giving  a  three  times  three. 


MRS.  JOHN  QUINCY  ADAMS. 

Miss  LOUISA  CATHARINE  JOHNSON  was  the  wife  of 
the  sixth,  and  what  may  be  called  the  last  of  the 
Presidents  of  the  Revolution.  She  was  born  in  Lon 
don,  in  1775.  Her  father  was  a  native  American, 
the  family  home  in  Maryland  ;  her  uncle  was  gover 
nor  of  that  state,  and  signer  of  the  Declaration  of 
Independence. 

Living  in  England,  where  public  feeling  was  against 
the  colonies,  where  "  every  man,"  according  to  Frank 
lin,  "  seemed  to  consider  himself  as  a  piece  of  a  sov 
ereign  over  America,  seemed  to  jostle  into  the  throne 
of  the  King,  and  talk  of  our  subjects  in  the  colonies," 
was  not  pleasant  for  a  man,  every  throb  of  whose 
heart  was  for  the  land  of  his  birth.  He  sacrificed 
his  business  interests,  and  passed  over  to  France, 
with  his  family. 

When  the  struggle  of  the  Revolution  was  over,  and 
England  had  yielded  to  the  inevitable,  he  returned 
and  held  an  office  under  the  American  government. 
His  daughter,  Miss  Louisa  Catharine,  spent  the 
greater  part  of  her  girlhood  in  London,  which  gave 
her  unusual  advantages,  and  she  became  a  proficient 
in  many  accomplishments. 

117 


Il8  MRS.    JOHN    QUINCY    ADAMS. 

John  Ouincy  Adams  was  born  in  the  very  hotbed 
of  the  Rebellion,  was  cradled  by  the  songs  of  liberty  ; 
Independence  was  the  watchword  of  all  about  him. 
In  Boston,  he  had  seen  the  redcoats  pace  the  street 
before  his  father's  house,  giving  law  to  the  citizens, 
even  interfering  with  the  sports  of  the  boys,  who  so 
manfully  stood  for  their  rights  before  the  stern  Eng 
lish  commander  that  he  was  forced  to  admire  them, 
and  ordered  his  soldiers  not  to  interfere  with  the 
snow-hills,  nor  with  the  sliding  and  skating  of  the 
boys. 

In  the  Quincy  home,  young  Adams  had  stood  in 
his  mother's  kitchen,  and  seen  her  spoons  melted 
into  bullets ;  had  seen  house  and  barn  given  up  to 
the  patriot  soldiers. 

With  a  father  ready  to  "sink  or  swim,  live  or  die, 
survive  or  perish,"  for  the  independence  of  his  coun 
try, —  with  a  mother,  who,  without  ever  a  thought  of 
woman's  rights,  bent  herself  with  Spartan  energy  to 
train  her  boys  for  patriots,  ready  to  work  in  the  field, 
if  thereby  she  could  add  one  more  arm  to  the  army, 
it  is  not  strange  that  this  boy  breathed  in  the  love  of 
liberty  from  the  air. 

Twice,  as  a  mere  boy,  he  accompanied  his  father 
to  Europe.  Placed  at  the  best  of  schools,  he,  too, 
had  had  uncommon  advantages,  and,  as  his  exacting 
father  said,  "behaved  like  a  man."  Wishing  to  put 
an  American  stamp  on  his  education,  he  returned  at 


MRS.    JOHN    QUINCY    ADAMS.  I  IQ 

eighteen  and  entered  an  advanced  class  at  Harvard. 
Two  years  later,  he  graduated  and  studied  law.  He 
began  his  eminent  career  in  Boston,  and  in  a  four 
years'  struggle,  experienced  all  the  discouragements 
a  young  lawyer  has  to  face. 

As  clients  were  few,  he  wrote  for  the  press  a  series 
of  articles,  which  showed  so  much  political  sagacity 
that  they  were  supposed  to  have  been  written  by  his 
father.  They  attracted  the  attention  of  Washing 
ton,  who  appointed  him  to  represent  America  at  the 
Hague.  His  diplomatic  duties  called  him  to  London, 
where  he  first  met  Miss  Johnson,  and  an  intimacy 
began,  which  soon  ripened  into  an  engagement. 
When  his  father  became  President,  his  nice  sense  of 
honor  determined  him  to  recall  his  son.  Better  ad 
vised  by  Washington,  he  simply  transferred  him  to 
Berlin.  At  this  time  he  fulfilled  his  engagement 
with  Miss  Johnson,  and  took  her  to  that  court,  a 
bride. 

When  Adams  was  to  give  way  to  Jefferson,  he  re 
called  his  son,  lest  he  should  impose  that  unpleasant 
duty  upon  his  old  friend,  as  they  differed  in  political 
policy.  Mr.  Adams  settled  at  the  corner  of  Tremont 
and  Boylston  Streets,  Boston. 

It  was  Mrs.  Adams's  first  introduction  to  New 
England,  and  to  her  husband's  family.  The  home 
was  soon  broken  up,  and  she  had  the  pleasure  of 
meeting  her  own  relatives  at  the  South,  as  Mr. 


I2O  MRS.  JOHN  QUINCY  ADAMS. 

Adams  was  elected  United  States  senator,  which 
office  he  finally  resigned,  as  he  and  his  constituents 
were  not  one  on  the  Embargo  question. 

When  Madison  came  into  power,  he  appointed  him 
minister  to  Russia.  At  this  time,  three  little  ones 
claimed  the  mother's  care,  and  there  was  a  struggle. 
It  ended  in  a  resolve  to  go  with  her  husband,  leaving 
two  children  in  the  care  of  the  grandparents. 

Russia,  with  its  Peter,  its  Catharines,  and  the  mad 
Paul,  had  hardly  been  considered  within  the  pale  of 
civilized  countries,  but,  now,  under  the  chivalrous 
bearing  of  the  youthful  Alexander,  she  was  taking  a 
prominent  place  in  the  stately  march  of  European 
nations.  Court  was  maintained  in  the  most  princely 
style. 

Parsimony  may  be  an  exaggerated  term,  but  New 
England  thrift  and  natural  inclinations  led  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Adams  to  live  as  quietly  as  their  official  station 
would  allow,  and  here  was  laid  the  foundation  of  their 
fortune  ;  also  the  foundation  of  the  amicable  relations 
which  have  ever  since  continued  between  Russia  and 
America. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Adams  may  be  said  to  have  lived 
abroad  in  the  days  of  modern  romance.  They  were 
in  Russia  at  the  battle  of  Borodino,  —  when  the  old 
capital  was  burned,  when  every  ear  was  strained,  lis 
tening,  lest  the  conqueror  would  knock  at  the  gates 
of  the  new. 


MRS.    JOHN    QUINCY    ADAMS.  121 

All  Europe  breathed  and  grew  calm  when  Napoleon 
was  banished  to  Elba.  The  war  between  England 
and  America,  however,  dragged  wearily  on.  Alexan 
der  offered  to  mediate,  and  try  to  bring  about  peace. 
Commissioners  came  from  America,  but  negotiations 
failed,  as  England,  from  petty  jealousy,  refused  to  act 
in  concert  with  Russia.  The  party  repaired  to  Ghent, 
soon  followed  by  Adams,  as  England  consented  to 
enter  into  negotiations  there.  Circumstances  com 
pelled  Mrs.  Adams  to  remain  in  Russia.  In  the 
early  spring,  when  Mr.  Adams  found  he  was  not  to 
return,  he  summoned  her  to  join  him  in  Paris. 

Now  the  woman  showed  she  had  true  courage. 
She  travelled  by  land  from  St.  Petersburg  to  Paris, 
with  only  servants  and  her  fourteen-year-old  son. 
Alexander  gave  her  a  passport,  but  America  had  so 
risen  in  power  that  she  found  her  best  safeguard 
was  in  announcing  herself  as  the  wife  of  the  Ameri 
can  minister.  Stories  of  robbery  and  murder  were 
told  her  at  every  stopping-place.  Lawless,  dis 
banded  soldiers  of  the  worst  class  were  scattered 
all  over  the  continent.  Once,  in  Courland,  they 
were  blocked  at  night  by  the  snow,  and  were  obliged 
to  rouse  the  peasants  to  shovel  them  out. 

Oh  that  she  could  have  wielded  the  facile  pen,  and 
possessed  the  glowing  imagery  of  her  mother-in-law  ! 

On  the  way,  Mrs.  Adams  was  told  the  news  that 
startled  all  Europe.  Napoleon  had  escaped  from 


122  MRS.    JOHN    QUINCY    ADAMS. 

Elba.  Crowned  heads,  nobles,  and  peasants  sprang 
to  arms.  Every  step  was  dangerous  ;  even  a  Polish 
cap  on  the  head  of  a  servant  was  a  signal  for  a  quar 
rel.  When  she  reached  the  frontiers  of  France, 
Napoleon  was  making  his  seven-hundred-mile  march 
to  the  capital. 

His  very  name  was  a  terror  to  her  Russian  ser 
vants,  and  not  one  would  cross  the  border.  Once 
she  was  surrounded  by  troops  so  inflamed  that  not 
even  a  woman  could  pass  without  declaring  her 
political  faith  and  purpose.  She  appealed  to  the 
commander,  and  by  his  advice  turned  back,  and,  by 
a  longer  route,  reached  Paris  and  her  husband. 

It  was  just  after  the  flight  of  the  Bourbons,  and 
they  were  present  at  the  entrance  of  Napoleon, 
beheld  the  adoration  of  the  people  as  he  was  borne 
aloft  in  their  arms,  through  the  arched  gallery  of  the 
Louvre,  into  the  Tuileries. 

In  May,  they  went  to  England  and  met  the  chil 
dren  from  whom  they  had  been,  for  six  years, 
parted.  A  daughter  had  been  born  and  buried  in 
Russia. 

Mr.  Adams  received  an  appointment  as  minister 
to  the  Court  of  St.  James,  and  a  house  was  taken  in 
London. 

The  prophecy  of  Washington  was  fulfilled :  "  I 
shall  be  much  mistaken,  if,  in  as  short  a  time  as  can 
well  be  expected,  he  (Mr.  Adams)  is  not  found  at 


MRS.    JOHN    QUINCY    ADAMS.  123 

the  head  of  the  diplomatic  corps,  be  the  govern 
ment  administered  by  whomsoever  the  people  may 
choose." 

As  a  diplomatist  and  cultured  man,  Mr.  Adams 
made  a  great  impression,  but  the  health  of  Mrs. 
Adams  was  delicate,  and  she  went  but  little  into 
society ;  maybe  she  was  glad  of  an  excuse  for  not 
frequenting  the  court  of  the  Regent. 

Adams  had  served  as  foreign  ambassador  under 
three  presidents,  and  now  a  fourth  summoned  him 
home  to  the  office  of  Secretary  of  State,  which  grati 
fied  the  extreme  wish  of  his  mother.  During  his 
term  of  eight  years,  his  wife  presided  over  his  house 
with  dignity  and  grace.  She  was  without  personal 
beauty,  but  she  had  acquired  in  the  different  courts 
of  Europe  an  elegance  of  manner  to  which  few  could 
attain.  According  to  her  son,  she  made  no  exclu 
sions  in  her  entertainments  on  account  of  political 
hostility ;  though  keenly  alive  to  the  reputation  of 
her  husband,  she  sought  only  "  to  amuse  and  enliven 
society,"  and  her  success  was  admitted  to  be  com 
plete. 

Jackson  was  in  Washington  in  the  winter  of  1823- 
24,  and  Mrs.  Adams  gave  in  his  honor,  on  the  eighth 
of  January,  one  of  the  largest  and  most  brilliant  par 
ties  which  had  ever  been  given  at  the  capital.  So 
great  was  the  enthusiasm  and  curiosity  to  see  the 
man  who  had  killed  the  British,  that  she  gracefully 


124  MRS-    J°HN    QUINCY    ADAMS. 

and  obligingly  took  his  arm  and  made  a  tour  of  her 
drawing-rooms. 

The  occasion  and  the  guests  were  commemorated 
in  the  following  verses  by  Mr.  John  T.  Agg,  which 
created  great  interest  at  the  time  and  have  hardly 
yet  lost  their  flavor.  The  author  bore  the  distinc 
tion  of  being  the  first  to  practise  stenography  in 
Washington. 

MRS.  JOHN  QUINCY   ADAMS'S   PARTY. 

JANUARY   8,  1824. 

WEND  you  with  the  world  to-night  ? 

Brown  and  fair  and  wise  and  witty, 
Eyes  that  float  in  seas  of  light, 

Laughing  mouths,  and  dimples  pretty. 
Belles  and  matrons,  maids  and  madams, 
All  are  gone  to  Mrs.  Adams. 
There  the  mist  of  the  future,  the  gloom  of  the  past 

All  melt  into  light,  at  the  warm  glance  of  pleasure, 
And  the  only  regret  is.  lest,  melting  too  fast, 

Mammas  should  move  off  in  the  midst  of  a  measure. 

Wend  you  with  the  world  to-night? 

Sixty  gray  and  giddy  twenty, 
Flirts  that  court,  and  prudes  that  slight, 

State  coquettes  and  spinsters  plenty. 
Mrs.  Sullivan  is  there 

With  all  the  charms  that  nature  lent  her. 
Gay  McKim  with  city  air 

And  winning  Gates  and  Vanderventer, 
Forsyth,  with  her  group  of  graces 

Both  the  Crowninshields  in  blue  ; 
The  Pierces,  with  their  heavenly  faces, 

And  eyes  like  suns  that  dazzle  through. 
Belles  and  matrons,  maids  and  madams, 
All  are  gone  to  Mrs.  Adams. 


MRS.    JOHN    QUINCY    ADAMS.  125 

Wend  you  with  the  world  to-night  ? 

East  and  West,  and  South  and  North 
Form  a  constellation  bright, 

And  pour  a  blended  brilliance  forth. 
See  the  tide  of  fashion  flowing, 

'Tis  the  hour  of  beauty's  reign. 
Webster,  Hamilton  are  going 

Eastern  Lloyd  and  Southern  Hayne; 
Western  Thomas  gayly  smiling, 

Borland,  nature's  protege, 
Young  De  Wolfe,  all  hearts  beguiling, 

Morgan,  Benton,  Brown,  and  Lee. 
Belles  and  matrons,  maids  and  madams, 
All  are  gone  to  Mrs.  Adams. 

Wend  you  with  the  world  to-night  ? 

Where  blue  eyes  are  brightly  glancing, 
While  to  measures  of  delight 

Fairy  feet  are  deftly  dancing ; 
Where  the  young  Euphrosyne 

Reigns  the  mistress  of  the  scene, 
Chasing  gloom  and  courting  glee, 

With  the  merry  tambourine. 
Many  a  form  of  fairy  birth, 

Many  a  Hebe  yet  unwon, 
Wirt,  a  gem  of  purest  worth, 

Lively,  laughing  Pleasanton, 
Vails  and  Taylor  will  be  there 
Gay  Monroe,  so  debonair, 

Hellen,  pleasure's  harbinger, 

Ramsay,  Cotfringer  and  Kerr. 
Belles  and  matrons,  maids  and  madams, 
All  are  gone  to  Mrs.  Adams. 

Wend  you  with  the  world  to-night? 

Juno  in  her  court  presides, 
Mirth  and  melody  invite, 

Fashion  points,  and  pleasure  guides  i 


126  MRS.    JOHN    QUINCY    ADAMS. 

Haste  away  then,  seize  the  hour 
Shun  the  thorn  and  pluck  the  flower, 

Youth  in  all  its  springtime  blooming, 

Age,  the  guise  of  youth  assuming, 
Wit,  through  all  circles  gleaming, 
Glittering  wealth  and  beauty  beaming : 

Belles  and  matrons,  maids  and  madams, 

All  are  gone  to  Mrs.  Adams. 

When  Jackson  came  to  the  capital,  expecting  to 
be  honored  with  the  office  of  President  and  for  the 
time  bottled  his  wrath,  Mrs.  Adams,  whose  husband 
was  the  successful  candidate,  was  very  delicate  and 
courteous  in  her  attentions. 

Mr.  Adams  bent  all  his  energies  to  make  Monroe's 
administration  a  success  ;  and,  at  its  close  was  chosen 
to  fill  his  place.  He  may  be  said  to  have  entered  the 
executive  mansion  "under  the  willows." 

As  Monroe's  second  term  began  to  draw  towards  a 
close,  so  did  the  "era  of  good  feeling."  Four  candi 
dates  were  ambitious  to  fill  his  place  ;  the  Secretary 
of  State,  the  idol  of  the  west,  the  paralytic  of 
Georgia,  and  the  hero  of  New  Orleans.  There  was 
just  one  "scramble"  to  be  ahead.  Each  one  was 
vilified  in  turn,  and  in  the  harshest  terms. 

Adams  \vas  precise,  cold,  stiff,  austere,  stubborn, 
harsh,  irritable,  taciturn,  —  everything  disagreeable 
that  could  be  put  into  one  New  England  Puritan  ;  but 
this  oft-maligned  individual  has  other  qualities,  and 
not  one  was  left  out  in  the  composition  of  John 


MRS.    JOHN    QUINCY    ADAMS.  I2/ 

Quincy  Adams,  —  he  had  honesty,  courage,  industry, 
patriotism,  economy,  high  principles  ;  was  the  soul 
of  honor,  the  embodiment  of  duty,  hard-working, 
spotless  in  private  life,  and  as  severe  upon  himself  as 
upon  others. 

As  candidate  for  the  highest  office,  Adams  bitterly 
said  :  "  It  seems  as  if  every  liar  and  calumniator  in 
the  country  were  at  work  day  and  night,  to  destroy 
my  character,"  and  then  he  was  taunted  with  marry 
ing  an  English  wife. 

Clay  loved  to.  play  cards  and  was  dubbed  a  gam 
bler  ;  Crawford  was  accused  of  being  corrupt  in  his 
official  duties,  as  Secretary  of  the  Treasury  ;  Jackson 
was  denounced  as  the  author  of  crimes  enough  to 
make  one's  hair  stand  on  end. 

The  result  of  the  election  crowded  Clay  from  the 
ranks,  as  according  to  the  Constitution,  the  House 
must  choose  from  the  three  candidates  who  shall 
have  received  the  greatest  number  of  votes. 

If  he  could  not  be  President  himself,  he  was  the 
Speaker  of  the  House,  which  gave  him  power  and 
influence  enough  to  say  who  should  be.  There  was 
nothing  in  common  between  the  brilliant,  social, 
frank,  generous  Kentuckian  and  the  Puritan  New 
Englander,  —  at  Ghent  they  could  only  agree  to  dif 
fer.  Clay  said  himself,  if  he  could  choose  from  the 
mass,  he  would  never  choose  Adams,  but  Crawford 
could  not  use  his  ringers,  seemed  marked  by  death, 


128  MRS.    JOHN    QUINCY    ADAMS. 

and  the  remaining  candidate  was  that  ignorant,  brawl 
ing  Jackson,  who  disregarded  law,  couldn't  speak  in 
Congress  without  "  choking  with  rage,"  never  did  do 
any  good  except  the  killing  of  twenty-five  hundred 
Englishmen,  which  certainly  deserved  a  big  reward, 
but  surely  not  that  of  the  Chief  Magistracy  of  the 
United  States,  yet  the  man  had  received  the  highest 
number  of  electoral  votes. 

Adams  was  chosen  as  the  best  of  a  poor  lot,  and 
it  was  gall  and  wormwood  to  his  proud,  independent 
spirit.  He  would  rather  have  resigned  than 
served,  but  did  he  resign,  Calhoun  as  vice-president, 
would  succeed  him,  and  he  was,  to  Adams,  the  em 
bodiment  of  all  that  was  dangerous  to  his  country. 

Mr.  Adams  was  the  first  to  walk  into  the  Ex 
ecutive  Mansion,  in  the  way  that  Mrs.  Madison  said 
others  came  out. 

It  was  a  time  of  quiet  and  prosperity ;  even 
Europe  was  in  repose.  Napoleon  was  at  St.  Helena, 
and  this  time  England  made  sure  that  there  could 
be  no  escape. 

As  the  Monroes  had  had  the  honor  of  welcoming 
Lafayette,  the  Adamses  had  the  honor  of  speeding 
the  parting  of  the  nation's  guest.  The  most  im 
posing  scene  ever  witnessed  in  the  White  House 
was  on  the  day  of  his  departure.  Officers  of  the 
general  government,  civil,  military,  and  naval,  the 
authorities  of  Washington,  Georgetown,  and  Alex- 


MRS.    JOHN    QUINCY    ADAMS. 

anclria,  with  a  host  of  citizens  and  strangers  were 
assembled.  Men  wept  and  embraced  their  guest  in 
effusive  French  fashion.  In  an  open  barouche, 
followed  by  an  immense  procession,  military  bands 
of  music,  amid  peals  of  artillery,  he  was  driven  to 
the  banks  of  the  Potomac,  where  the  steamer  Mount 
Vernon  took  him  to  the  "  Branclywine,"  a  frigate 
named  in  honor  of  his  gallant  exploits,  which  Con 
gress  had  placed  at  his  service. 

Socially,  the  administration  was  popular.  Mrs. 
Adams  was  petite  and  brilliant,  buoyant  in  spirit, 
lively  in  disposition,  bright  and  witty  in  conversa 
tion.  She  kept  up  the  style  of  the  evening  levees 
introduced  by  Mrs.  Madison,  and  improved  upon 
the  quality  of  the  refreshments  offered.  She  pre 
sided  gracefully  over  the  frequent  dinners  given 
by  her  husband,  ignoring  all  subjects  of  controversy. 
She  rigidly  abstained  from  meddling  with  political 
affairs. 

Once,  ladies  from  the  extreme  aristocracy  of  the 
South,  tried  to  enlist  her  services  in  advancing  a 
young  lieutenant.  She  politely  listened,  but  there 
was  a  keen  rebuke  in  her  answer:  "Truly,  ladies, 
though  Mesdames  Maintenon  and  Pompadour  are 
said  to  have  controlled  the  military  appointments  of 
their  times,  I  do  not  think  such  matters  appertain  to 
women." 

Mr.  Adams   was   icily  cold   in  manner,  would  use 


I3O  MRS.    JOHN    QUINCY    ADAMS. 

no  ceremony  in  dismissing  from  his  presence  the 
most  distinguished  politicians,  visiting  at  the  capital, 
—  seemed  to  think  he  should  lower  his  self-respect 
by  being  even  civilly  polite.  A  note  of  thanks  for 
a  political  favor,  was  to  him  as  criminal  as  buying 
votes  to  many  a  modern  politician.  No  man  was 
ever  more  ambitious  to  be  endorsed  by  a  reelection 
than  he,  but  he  scorned  to  owe  favor  to  one  who 
pulled  a  wire  for  the  purpose.  The  power  to  make 
friends  was  not  one  of  his  gifts.  If  there  were  a 
warm  spot  in  the  depths  of  the  man's  heart,  as 
Edward  Everett  in  his  eulogy  claimed,  common 
humanity  could  not  dive  deep  enough  to  reach  it. 

His  son  John,  who  was  his  private  secretary,  had 
his  father's  stiffness  added  to  the  manners  of  —  well, 
not  those  of  a  gentleman. 

At  one  of  his  mother's  levees,  after  she  had  most 
politely  received  a  lady  from  Boston,  accompanied 
by  her  husband,  who  was  the  editor  of  a  Washing 
ton  paper,  belonging  to  the  opposition,  he  was 
asked:  "Who  is  that  lady?"  "That,"  in  a  voice 
intended  to  be  heard,  "is  the  wife  of  one  Russell 
Jarvis,  and  if  he  knew  how  contemptibly  he  is 
viewed  in  this  house,  they  would  not  be  here." 

Mr.  Jarvis  stopped  to  inquire  by  whom  the  offen 
sive  remark  was  made,  made  his  adieux  to  Mrs. 
Adams,  and  left.  The  next  day  Mr.  Jarvis  sent  a 
note,  by  a  friend,  asking  an  explanation  from  the 


MRS.   JOHN    QUINCY    ADAMS.  13! 

young  man.  He  told  the  bearer,  that  he  had  no 
apology  to  make  to  Mr.  Jarvis,  and  that  he  wished 
for  no  correspondence  with  him ;  considering  his 
personal  relations  with  the  President,  he  had  no  right 
to  be  at  the  drawing-room. 

Soon  after,  Mr.  Jarvis  met  the  insolent  youth  in 
the  Capitol,  pulled  his  nose  and  slapped  his  face. 

Master  John  complained  to  papa,  who  sent  a 
special  message  to  Congress,  detailing  the  affair. 
Committees  were  appointed  and  out  of  respect  to 
the  President,  they  went  over  the  pros  and  cons  of 
the  fray,  but  neither  punishment  nor  censure  fell 
upon  Mr.  Jarvis. 

After  the  rebuilding  of  the  Executive  Mansion, 
a  handsome  sum  was  appropriated  for  decorating 
it,  but  by  an  embezzlement  a  large  part  was  lost, 
and  the  Adamses  found  it  meagrely  furnished  and 
what  there  was  in  a  very  shabby  condition.  From 
the  appropriation  made  upon  the  advent  of  Mr. 
Adams,  he  bought  a  billiard-table  for  his  son.  The 
purchase  was  commented  on  with  so  much  severity 
that  the  president  paid  the  bill  from  his  private 
purse. 

Master  John,  of  unenviable  notoriety  was  married 
in  the  White  House,  to  his  mother's  niece,  Miss 
Mary  Hellen.  Solomon  said,  "there  is  a  time  to 
dance,"  and  at  this  marriage  the  solemn  President 
evidently  thought  the  time  had  come,  and  went 


132  MRS.    JOHN    QUINCY    ADAMS. 

through  a  Virginia  reel  with   the  spirit  inspired  by 
wedding  rites. 

Mr.  Adams's  administration  was  a  period  of  great 
national  prosperity ;  the  first  railroad  was  built, 

and  the   Erie   Canal   opened. 

There  was  a  new  subject  of  contention  between 
the  North  and  South,  —  this  time  it  was  a  protective 
tariff,  or  the  "  American  System,"  as  some  were 
pleased  to  call  it ;  however,  the  country  remained 
intact,  as  it  has  through  many  a  severer  test,  but  this 
was  the  hinge  on  which  the  coming  election  was  to 
turn. 

Jackson  was  elected,  and  John  Quincy  Adams  was 
a  bitterly  disappointed  man.  It  was  usual  and  cour 
teous  for  the  President-elect  to  pay  his  respects  to 
the  President  in  power,  especially  would  it  have  been 
becoming  for  this  one,  who  had  been  frequently  dined 
by  the  President,  and  had  received  civilities  from  his 
lady  in  former  days. 

Now,  Jackson  was  bowed  with  grief  for  the  loss  of 
his  wife.  An  official  organ  had"  traduced  her,  and 
this  was  the  one  sin  for  which  he  forgave  no  man, 
and  he  believed  that  the  President  had  at  least 
prompted  the  article. 

Adams  could  never  rise  to  the  height  of  magnan 
imity,  and  pettily  retaliated  by  absenting  himself 
from  the  inaugural  ceremonies. 

Surely,  "A  chip  of  the  old  block;"     John  Adams 


MRS.    JOHN    QUINCY    ADAMS.  133 

had  done  the  same  thing  —  both  great,  both  can 
tankerous. 

Mr.  Adams  left  the  Executive  Mansion  on  the  third 
of  March,  and  was  taking  his  daily  horseback  ride, 
when  the  booming  of  cannon  announced  that  his 
successor  had  taken  the  oath  of  office. 

The  family  returned  to  New  England,  and  two 
years  later  he  was  chosen  representative  to  Congress. 
With  the  man  trained  by  Abigail  Adams,  it  was  duty 
to  serve  his  country.  It  was  the  first  time  an  ex- 
president  had  entered  that  Hall  as  a  member.  For 
sixteen  years,  through  Jackson's,  Van  Buren's,  Harri 
son's,  Tyler's,  and  Folk's  terms,  he  kept  his  seat. 
During  this  period,  Mrs.  Adams  lived  a  quiet,  secluded 
life,  happy  in  husband  and  home.  Of  her  four  child 
ren  only  one  son,  Charles  Francis  Adams,  remained. 

The  old  man  had  turned  fourscore,  but  the  grass 
hopper  never  became' a  burden.  The  2Oth  of  Febru 
ary,  1848  was  Sunday.  At  morning  and  evening 
service  he  was  in  his  place  ;  a  third  service  was  in  his 
library,  where  Mrs.  Adams  read  a  sermon  of  Bishop 
Wilberforce's,  on  "  Time."  In  the  morning  he  went 
to  the  Capitol  with  unwonted  alacrity,  wrote  a  poem, 
twice  gave  his  autograph,  voted,  and  without  warning 
fell,  stricken  with  paralysis,  into  the  arms  of  a  mem 
ber  near  him.  There  came  a  gleam  of  consciousness, 
and  he  asked  for  his  wife,  who  sat  by  his  side,  then 
he  relapsed.  He  roused  once  more,  only  to  say, 


134  MRS-    JOHN    QUINCY    ADAMS. 

"  This  is  the  last  of  earth.  I  am  content."  He  lin 
gered  until  the  evening  of  the  third  day. 

Beneath  the  dome  of  the  Capitol,  in  the  field  of  his 
labors,  trials,  and  triumphs,  the  "  golden  bowl  was 
broken,  and  the  silver  cord  loosed."  Fortunate  in 
his  lineage,  place  of  nativity,  education,  age,  country, 
and  in  his  death,  A  son  from  each  state  and  terri 
tory  in  the  Union  bore  his  body  in  solemn  triumph 
to  New  England,  and  in  Faneuil  Hall  consigned  it  to 
the  citizens  of  Massachusetts,  who  placed  it  in  the 
tomb  at  Quincy. 

All  his  life  he  had  practised  economy,  and  conse 
quently  left  a  large  estate.  Mrs.  Adams  had  learned 
to  prefer  New  England  to  the  South.  She  returned 
to  the  family  residence,  and  lived,  surrounded  by 
grandchildren  and  relatives,  four  more  years,  and 
died  at  the  age  of  seventy-seven. 

A  distinguished  visitor  at  her  home  wrote  :  "  Mrs. 
Adams  is  described  in  a  word  —  a  lady.  She  has  all 
the  warmth  of  heart  and  ease  of  manner,  that  mark 
the  character  of  Southern  ladies."  A  member  of  her 
own  family  has  written  that  her  varied  accomplish 
ments  made  her  the  ornament  of  the  home  circle,  but 
there  was  little  in  her  private  life  that  can  be  of 
interest  to  the  public.  As  the  wife  of  John  Quincy 
Adams,  the  "  old  man  eloquent,"  and  as  an  elegant 
lady  of  the  White  House,  her  name  will  ever  be  dis 
tinguished  in  the  annals  of  history. 


MRS.  JACKSON. 

LATE  in  December,  1789,  a  party  of  emigrants 
from  Virginia  went  by  water  to  Tennessee.  The 
windings  of  the  river  made  the  distance  more  than 
two  thousand  miles,  and  they  were  four  months  on 
the  way.  It  was  a  hard,  perilous  journey;  to  the 
severity  of  the  season  was  added  fear  of  the  Indians 
who  lurked  along  the  banks.  Twenty-eight  of  the 
party  were  captured.  Children  were  born  and  died. 

At  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio,  the  hardships,  the 
swift  current,  and  the  unknown  dangers,  struck  dis 
may  into  the  hearts  of  many,  and  they  sailed  down 
the  Mississippi  to  Natchez. 

The  leader  of  the  party  was  Captain  Donelson,  a 
bold  backwoodsman,  who  had  with  him  his  family, 
among  whom  was  his  daughter,  a  girl  twelve  years 
old,  brown-skinned,  black-eyed,  and  full  of  vivacity, 
capable  of  taking  the  helm  or  leading  a  dance  on  the 
flat  boat. 

Having  reached  what  is  now  Nashville,  the  party 
settled  in  log  houses,  built  by  men  sent  on  a  few 
months  earlier  to  prepare  the  way.  They  laid  out 
farms  and  lived  the  hard  life  of  pioneers,  always 


136  MRS.    JACKSON. 

harassed     by    Indians.       Amid     such    surroundings, 
Rachael    Donelson    sprang   to  womanhood. 

At.  a  time  of  short  crops  and  great  scarcity,  Cap 
tain  Donelson  took  his  family  to  Kentucky,  where 
food  was  more  abundant.  There,  Lewis  Robards,  a 
young  backwoodsman,  saw  and  admired  his  pretty 
daughter,  and,  after  a  short  wooing,  married  and 
took  her  to  his  mother's  log  cabin. 

Whether  it  were  true  love  or  not,  it  did  not  run 
smooth.  The  story-telling,  the  gayety,  and  high 
spirits,  which  had  been  so  winning  in  the  girl,  the 
husband  denounced  as  something  worse  than  impro 
prieties  in  the  wife.  Stormy  scenes  often  took 
place,  and  finally  he  left  her.  His  mother  always 
took  Rachael's  side,  which  would  hardly  have  been 
the  case,  if  Lewis's  jealousy  had  been  well  founded. 

The  deserted  wife  went  to  her  father's  house 
in  Nashville,  to  which  the  family  had  returned. 
Robards  came  too,  owned  his  jealousy  had  been 
foolish,  through  friends  gained  his  wife's  pardon, 
and  became  an  inmate  of  the  block  house.  Cap 
tain  Donelson  had  been  killed  a  few  months  before 
by  the  Indians,  and  now  his  wife  kept  the  best 
boarding-house  in  the  place. 

Among  the  boarders  was  a  singular-looking  man, 
over  six  feet  high,  lank  in  figure,  red-haired,  uncouth 
in  dress,  a  swearing,  gambling,  cock-fighting  fellow, 
called  Andrew  Jackson.  Out  of  this  unpleasant 


MRS.    JACKSON.  137 

exterior,  shone  a  pair  of  dark  blue,  deep-set  eyes, 
eyes  that  could  just  blaze  when  turned  upon  a  foe, 
but  melt  into  tenderness  when  turned  upon  a 
woman,  with  whom  he  always  bore  the  air  of  a 
protector.  When  he  drew  up  his  tall,  spare  figure, 
there  was  a  sort  of  majesty  in  his  presence  that 
commanded  respect,  and,  with  his  bluff,  frank  hon 
esty,  won  him  a  host  of  friends,  even  among  the 
better  class. 

Soon  Robards  declared  the  melting  eyes  of  this 
fellow  were  turned  too  often  upon  his  wife,  and  hers 
flashed  love  in  return.  To  keep  the  peace,  Jackson 
left  the  house,  but  the  husband  was  not  appeased. 
His  jealous  remarks  were  repeated  to  Jackson,  who 
fell  into  one  of  his  terrible  rages,  sought  out  the 
husband,  told  him  if  he  ever  again  connected  his 
name  with  Mrs.  Robards,  he  would  cut  his  ears  from 
his  head,  —  indeed  he  was  tempted  to  do  it  before 
he  had  a  chance  to  repeat  his  words. 

His  frenzy  frightened  Robards,  who  slunk  away  to 
the  office  of  a  justice  of  the  peace  and  swore  out  a 
warrant.  Jackson  was  arrested,  and  a  guard  called  to 
take  him  to  the  court,  the  jealous  husband  follow 
ing  in  the  rear.  The  prisoner  asked  from  one  of  the 
guard,  the  loan  of  a  knife ;  the  man  refusing,  he 
promised  on  honor  to  hurt  no  one.  It  was  handed 
to  him  ;  he  examined  the  edge,  felt  the  point,  all  the 
time  flashing  his  blazing  eyes  on  his  accuser.  In 


138  MRS.    JACKSON. 

those  wild  days,  the  man  dared  not  rely  on  the  law, 
and  in  his  terror  took  to  his  heels.  Jackson  fol 
lowed  for  some  distance,  then  came  back  and  walked 
quietly  into  court.  The  case  was  called,  but  as  there 
was  no  complainant,  he  was  discharged. 

Robards  again  deserted  his  wife  and  left  the  state. 
Absence  made  her  dearer,  and  again  he  came  back 
and  sued  for  pardon.  Twice  accused  and  twice  for 
saken,  the  woman  rose,  threw  back  scorn  for  scorn. 
To  escape  him,  she  planned  a  visit  to  Natchez. 
A  sail  down  the  Mississippi  in  those  days  was  full 
of  danger,  and  Jackson,  always  chivalrous  to  women, 
especially  to  this  one,  forsaken  on  his  account, 
offered  to  be  her  protector.  The  journey  was  safely 
made  and  he  left  her  with  her  friends. 

Soon  came  the  story  that  the  enraged  husband  had 
gained  a  divorce  in  Virginia.  Jackson  lost  no  time 
in  asking  to  fill  the  husband's  place,  —  maybe  the 
woman's  heart  had  been  won  before,  —  any  way, 
there  was  a  marriage.  For  the  first  time,  Rachael 
had  a  log  cabin  of  her  own,  and  had  a  husband  who 
was  not  only  tender,  but  treated  her  with  a  sort  of 
reverence,  as  if  she  were  something  holy,  like  the 
devotion  of  the  olden  knights,  of  which  we  read  in 
the  days  of  chivalry. 

Two  years  later,  the  pair  were  startled  by  hearing 
that  Robards  had  at  first  simply  filed  a  complaint, 
and  that  the  divorce  had  just  been  granted  on  the 


MRS.    JACKSON.  139 

ground  of  open  adultery.  Jackson's  face  blanched, 
and  he  swore  "  by  the  Eternal,"  his  favorite  oath, 
that  the  woman  was  his  lawful  wife  before  God  and 
man,  but  he  was  a  prudent  man  ;  a  second  time  the 
pair  stood  before  a  priest  and  repeated  their  marriage 
vows. 

Mrs.  Jackson  was  among  the  first  in  the  social 
scale,  and  lost  no  caste  by  this  unfortunate  affair. 
The  towns-people  had  heard  what  she  had  heard,  had 
believed,  as  she  had  believed,  —  that  she  was  free  to 
marry.  Had  Jackson  lived  the  life  of  a  Tennessee 
planter,  it  might  not  have  mattered,  but,  alas  for  the 
woman,  his  career  led  to  fame. 

If  she  had  as  Robards  said,  let  her  eyes  speak  love 
to  Jackson,  when  such  speaking  had  been  traitorous 
to  him,  her  wedded  husband,  he  was  avenged  in  her 
last  days. 

But  one  man  ever  dared  allude  to  this  irregularity 
in  Jackson's  presence,  and  he  had  reason  to  wish  he 
had  never  been  born. 

Jackson  ripped  out  oaths  enough  to  curdle  one's 
blood,  swore  "by  the  Eternal"  he  would  take  his 
life  ;  shots  were  fired  in  the  public  street,  but  the 
man  escaped.  Again  Jackson  met  him  on  the  high 
way,  called  upon  him  to  defend  himself,  and  fell  on 
him  with  such  fury  that  the  man's  life  was  only 
saved  by  the  help  of  some  passing  travellers.  To 
speak  ill  of  his  wife  was  likened  to  the  sin  against 
the  Holy  Ghost,  —  unpardonable. 


I4O  MRS.    JACKSON. 

Jackson  came  to  Tennessee  as  a  lawyer,  but  ac 
quired  no  fame.  In  payment  for  services  he  took 
land,  the  common  currency  of  the  country,  forsook 
the  law,  and  turned  planter. 

The  Tennesseans  felt  ill-used  by  government,  and 
sent  Jackson  as  representative  to  Congress,  feeling 
sure,  from  his  fearless,  indomitable  will,  their  claims 
would  be  pushed  with  spirit. 

The  cultured,  European  Gallatin  described  him  at 
that  time  as  tall,  lank,  uncouth,  with  long  red  locks 
hanging  over  his  face  ;  queue  down  his  back,  tied  in 
an  eel  skin  ;  dress  singular ;  manners  those  of  a  rough 
backwoodsman  ;  but  his  person  and  manners,  like  rare 
diamonds,  were  capable  of  taking  an  immense  polish. 
As  representative,  his  conduct  was  highly  approved 
by  his  constituents,  and  the  next  year  he  was  re 
turned  as  senator.  The  life  was  so  distasteful,  he 
resigned  after  one  session. 

The  same  year,  he  was  appointed  Judge  of  the  Su 
preme  Court  of  the  State.  He  held  the  office  six 
years,  and  his  conduct  was  ever  in  keeping  with  the 
man. 

Once  an  offender  resisted  arrest,  — "  Summon  a 
posse,"  shouted  the  judge  ;  the  sheriff  did  so,  came 
back,  said  the  man  was  armed,  and  could  not  be  taken. 

"  Since  you  can't  obey  my  orders,  Mr.  Sheriff, 
summon  me,"  thundered  the  judge.  Had  the  man 
disobeyed,  he  might  have  been  shot. 


MRS.   JACKSON.  14! 

The  judge  adjourned  the  court  ten  minutes,  — out 
he  strode ;  before  the  time  expired,  he  was  in  his 
seat,  the  prisoner  in  the  dock. 

He  had  personal  quarrels  by  the  score.  At  one 
time  he  caned  a  man  ;  another,  fought  a  duel.  Dick 
inson  fell  at  his  fire,  and,  so  deadly  was  his  purpose, 
that  he  said  :  "  I  should  have  hit  him,  if  he  had  shot 
me  through  the  brain." 

The  quarrel  was  one  of  long  standing.  Dickinson 
was  the  best  shot  in  the  county,  and  it  was  said  he 
kept  in  constant  practice  for  this  very  duel. 

It  was  fought  in  a  secluded  place,  far  from  town,  to 
which  both  parties  repaired  the  day  previous. 

Dickinson  kissed  his  young  wife  at  parting,  and 
said,  "  I  shall  surely  be  at  home  to-morrow  night, 
darling." 

At  an  early  hour,  principals,  seconds,  and  sur 
geons,  rode  to  the  fatal  spot.  The  polite  courtesies 
of  such  occasions  were  strictly  observed. 

The  arrangement  of  the  seconds  was,  that  the  men 
should  be  placed  eight  paces  apart,  and  each  should 
stand  at  the  mark  until  he  had  received  one  shot  ;  at 
the  word  "  fire,"  each  should  fire  as  soon  as  he  pleased. 
Dickinson  was  the  quicker  and  sent  the  first  shot,  — 
Jackson  stood  erect,  —  "  Good  God,  have  I  missed 
him  !  "  exclaimed  Dickinson. 

Jackson  slowly  raised  his  pistol  and  took  deliberate 
aim — the  pistol  stopped,  half  cocked. 


142  MRS.    JACKSON. 

In  the  excitement  Dickinson  fell  back.  "Back  to 
the  mark,  you  scoundrel,"  shouted  Jackson's  second. 
Back  he  stepped,  and  Jackson  aimed  the  second  time  ; 
the  man  fell  mortally  wounded. 

All  the  long  hours  of  that  summer  day  he  writhed 
in  agony ;  at  night  came  the  young  wife,  only  to  find 
him  hushed  in  death. 

To  the  world  of  to-day,  the  whole  thing  was  brutal, 
but  even  at  that  time  there  was  a  howl  of  rage,  that 
a  man  should  have  taken  a  second  chance. 

Jackson  himself  was  wounded,  but  such  was  his 
nerve  and  pride,  he  walked  erect  from  the  field,  lest 
his  dying  foe  should  have  the  satisfaction  of  knowing 
his  shot  had  told.  Yet  (it  seems  as  .if  it  were  mock 
politeness),  he  sent  wine  and  the  offer  of  the  services 
of  his  own  surgeon. 

His  wound  never  healed  well,  and  though  he  lived 
to  be  an  old  man,  it  was  Dickinson's  bullet  that  caused 
his  death. 

His  domestic  life  was  perfect.  Mrs.  Jackson  was 
jovial,  'fond  of  dancing,  riding,  full  of  anecdotes,  a 
famous  story-teller,  happy  herself,  and  a  source  of 
happiness  to  all  about  her. 

They  had  but  one  grief ;  both  loved  and  desired 
children  and  children  were  denied  them.  Jackson 
had  no  relatives,  but  those  of  his  wife  were  like  the 
sands  of  the  sea  for  multitude. 

To  one  brother  were  born  twin  boys.     Mrs.  Jack- 


MRS.    JACKSON.  143 

son  took  one  home,  hoping  thereby  to  provide  a  son 
for  her  husband.  He  became  dotingly  fond  of  the 
boy,  gave  him  his  own  name,  and  made  him  his  heir. 
The  boy  proved,  next  his  wife,  the  delight  of  his  life, 
and  the  hope  of  his  old  age. 

Another  Andrew,  a  nephew,  was  taken  home  and 
educated.  Beside  these,  a  merry  crew  of  nephews 
and  nieces  were  always  flitting  about,  always  wel 
come. 

The  Creek  Indians,  armed  and  incited  by  the 
British,  had  massacred  the  garrison  at  Fort  Mims. 
The  militia  of  Tennessee  were  called  out,  and  Jack 
son  given  the  command.  Now  the  man  had  found 
his  place.  He  was  born  to  be  a  military  hero. 

By  skill  and  celerity  of  movement,  he  enclosed  the 
Creeks  in  a  trap  at  Horse  Shoe  Bend.  The  battle 
began.  Not  an  Indian  would  ask  or  accept  of  quar 
ter.  In  a  few  hours  the  massacre  of  Fort  Mims  was 
avenged,  the  power  of  the  Creeks  broken,  and  Jack 
son  famous. 

He  tarnished  his  fame  by  executing  a  mutinous 
lad  —  he  was  only  seventeen,  and  ignorant  of  mili 
tary  rules.  He  meant  no  wrong,  but  was  roughly 
and  unreasonably  ordered  about  by  his  superior. 
His  spirit  rose  and  he  refused  obedience. 

In  1814,  Jackson  was  appointed  brigadier-general, 
and  sent  to  New  Orleans,  where  the  British  seemed 
to  threaten  an  attack.  Dismay  filled  every  heart. 


144  MRS-    JACKSON. 

The  women  prepared  for  flight :  wore  poniards,  de 
termined  to  die  rather  than  fall  into  the  hands  of  the 
soldiery,  fresh  from  the  atrocities  in  Spain,  where  the 
watchword  had  been  "beauty  and  booty." 

Soon  the  news  flew,  Jackson  —  Jackson  the  terri 
ble —  had  come;  held  in  dread,  yet  his  presence 
breathed  safety. 

He  calmed  the  fair  Creoles,  swore  by  the  Eternal, 
the  enemy  should  never  enter  the  place,  unless  it 
were  over  his  dead  body. 

As  a  boy  he  had  seen  and  felt  the  cruelties  of 
Tarleton,  and  in  fury  had  said,  "  Oh,  if  I  were  a  man, 
how  I  would  sweep  clown  the  British  with  my  grass- 
blade  !  "  He  had  never  forgotten,  and  now  his  time 
had  come.  It  was  his  first  battle  against  a  civilized 
foe  and  he  was  armed  with  hatred,  often  exclaiming, 
"  I  will  smash  them,  so  help  me  God." 

The  enemy,  twelve  thousand  strong,  trained  in  the 
Peninsula,  were  led  by  Pakenham,  bearing  the  scars 
of  many  a  victorious  battle,  a  hero  at  Salamanca  and 
Badajoz,  brother-in-law  and  favorite  of  Wellington. 

Jackson  had  less  than  six  thousand  men,  raw 
militia  and  citizens  of  New  Orleans,  many  without 
arms. 

For  two  weeks,  both  sides  prepared  for  the  strife  ; 
one  with  sand  and  sugar,  the  other  with  sand  and 
cotton  bags  ;  the  sugar  proving  even  a  more  fatal 
mistake  than  the  cotton. 


MRS.    JACKSON.  145 

As  the  sun  struggled  through  the  fog  on  the  eighth 
of  January,  the  enemy  were  seen,  coming  on  at 
steady  British  pace. 

The  American  line,  looking  like  a  row  of  fiery  fur 
naces,  drove  them  back  at  the  first  fire.  Under  the 
brave  Highlanders,  they  rallied,  and  with  Pakenham 
at  their  head  rushed  on  like  the  "  six  hundred," 
"  into  the  jaws  of  death." 

In  twenty-five  minutes  the  rout  was  complete  ; 
seven  hundred  killed,  among  whom  was  the  renowned 
Pakenham  ;  fourteen  hundred  wounded,  and  five  hun 
dred  prisoners.  So  panic  stricken  had  been  the 
men,  they  had  fallen  prostrate  among  the  dead  and 
wounded.  Jackson  went  upon  the  field,  and  as  they 
rose  one  by  one,  he  likened  it  to  the  rising  from  the 
dead  on  the  last  day,  and  ever  after  felt  equal  to  de 
scribing  the' resurrection,  as  if  it  had  passed,  and  he 
had  been  an  eyewitness. 

The  city  was  delirious  with  joy.  If  Jackson  had 
been  a  hero  before,  he  was  a  demigod  now.  He 
executed  six  militia  men,  but  he  had  saved  New 
Orleans,  avenged  the  burning  of  Washington,  re 
stored  the  lustre  to  American  arms,  so  dimmed  on 
the  Atlantic  coast. 

Henry  Clay  said  he  could  now  go  to  England  with 
out  humiliation. 

During  his  triumphant  stay  in  New  Orleans,  his 
wife  and  little  son  joined  him.  Mrs.  Jackson  had 


146  MRS.    JACKSON. 

grown  coarse  and  stout  —  the  brunette  beauty  of  her 
girlhood  had  changed  to  the  look  of  a  half-breed. 
Homely  in  speech  and  in  costume  —  by  the  side  of 
her  elegant  husband,  now  an  adept  in  drawing-room 
arts,  she  might  have  been  taken  for  a  servant,  had 
it  not  been  for  the  marked  attention  he  paid  her  — 
seemed  blind  to  her  homely  bearing  and  country 
manners. 

In  all  companies  and  upon  all  occasions,  he  gave 
proof  that  his  "bonny  brown  wife"  was  to  him  the 
dearest  and  most  revered  of  human  beings. 

The  elegant  Creoles  took  the  cue  —  made  much  of 
her  ;  gave  her  jewelry  (the  topaz  jewelry  that  is  seen 
in  her  portrait  at  the  Hermitage),  prepared  silks  and 
satins  for  the  dinners  and  parties  given  in  honor  of 
the  general.  To  see  the  pair  dance  was  something 
grotesque  ;  but  how  she  enjoyed  the  honors  paid  her 
husband !  The  little  Andrew  was  the  pet  of  the 
ladies  and  of  the  soldiers  — everywhere  at  home. 

The  journey  to  Nashville  was  one  continued 
ovation. 

A  year  later  Mrs.  Jackson  became  a  Presbyterian 
convert,  —  her  letters  are  those  of  a  canting  devotee, 
but  her  daily  life  was  proof  of  her  sincerity ;  always 
strict  in  her  duties,  kind  to  the  poor,  and  to  all  about 
her,  now  she  aimed  to  live  the  higher  life. 

To  please  her,  Jackson  built  a  church  on  the 
estate,  and  his  house  was  a  home  for  all  clergymen 


MRS.    JACKSON.  147 

of  her  creed.  He  sympathized  in  her  new  resolves, 
took  part  in  all  her  plans,  only  holding  himself  aloof. 
His  conversation  was  always  mixed  with  oaths,  but 
if  his  wife  asked  him  to  crave  a  blessing  at  table,  he 
bowed  his  head,  did  it  in  the  most  reverent  manner, 
then  went  on  with  the  half-finished  oath,  as  if  there 
had  been  no  such  interlude. 

When  the  church  was  finished,  he  built  the  Her 
mitage,  the  finest  house  in  the  state,  as  a  love  gift 
to  his  wife.  When  some  one  suggested  that  higher 
land  would  be  a  better  site,  "  No,  Mrs.  Jackson  chose 
this  spot,  the  house  is  for  her  and  it  shall  be  where 
she  says,"  was  his  reply. 

In  the  Seminole  war,  he  was  sent  to  Florida,  then 
owned  by  Spain.  In  forty-six  days  the  war  was 
ended,  but  he  had  nearly  embroiled  England  and 
America  in  a  new  war  by  taking  Pensacola,  a 
Spanish  town,  and  executing  Arbuthnot  and  Am- 
bister ;  one  an  Englishman,  the  other  a  Scotchman. 

Upon  the  purchase  of  Florida  in  1821,  Jackson 
was  sent  to  receive  the  transfer,  with  rank  of  gover 
nor,  which  to  him  meant  autocrat. 

Now  he  embroils  his  country  with  Spain,  by  put 
ting  the  ex-governor,  Colonel  Callava,  a  Spanish 
grandee,  into  the  calaboose,  and  ordering  all  Spanish 
officers  who  had  remained  to  leave  within  four  days, 
under  penalty  of  arrest. 

John  Quincy  Adams,  whose  duty  it  was  as  diplom- 


148  MRS.   JACKSON. 

atist,  to  smooth  foreign  powers,  used  to  say  he 
dreaded  the  coming  of  a  mail  from  Florida  —  not 
knowing  what  Jackson  might  do  next. 

Mrs.  Jackson,  who  was  with  him,  had  looked  on 
with  horror  at  the  shameless  Sabbath  breaking 
under  Spanish  rule  ;  stores,  theatres,  and  gambling 
houses  all  open  —  a  "Godless  land"  she  writes  her 
friends.  The  Sunday  before  the  transfer,  she  gave 
out  word  it  was  the  last  that  would  be  so  desecrated, 
and  sure  enough,  her  lord,  to  please  her,  put  the 
place  under  strict  Puritan  rule ;  even  swearing  was 
his  sole  prerogative. 

Mrs.  Jackson  wrote  home  :  — 

"  Yesterday  I  had  the  happiness  of  witnessing  the 
truth  of  what  I  had  said.  Great  order  was  observed ; 
the  doors  kept  shut,  the  gambling  houses  demolished, 
fiddling  and  dancing  not  heard  any  more  on  the 
Lord's  day ;  cursing  not  to  be  heard.  ...  I  have 
heard  but  one  gospel  sermon  since  I  left  home. 
Do  not  be  uneasy  for  me.  'Although  the  vine 
yield  no  fruit,  and  the  olive  no  oil,  yet  I  will  serve 
the  Lord.'  ' 

In  1824,  Jackson  was  one  of  the  four  candidates 
for  the  presidency :  neither  had  the  majority  re 
quired  and  the  election  went  to  the  House  of  Rep 
resentatives.  The  General  and  Mrs.  Jackson  went 
in  a  coach  and  six  to  Washington.  As  he  had  the 
greatest  number  of  electoral  votes,  he  expected  the 


MRS.    JACKSON.  149 

House  would  decide  in  his  favor,  but,  through  Clay's 
influence,  Adams  was  chosen. 

Jackson  had  at  first  avowed  his  unfitness  for  the 
office,  but  the  honor  of  the  position  and  the  sense  of 
power  —  power  as  he  only  dared  to  use  it,  always  the 
sweetest  morsel  to  him,  had  come  to  be  a  craving. 
He  had  come  in  the  pride  of  success  to  see  the  high 
place  given  to  another.  He  dissembled  his  wrath, 
but  it  was  all  bottled,  to  be  poured  out  in  unstinted 
measure  upon  the  heads  of  those  who  had  defrauded 
him,  if  ever  his  day  of  power  came. 

It  was  Mrs.  Jackson's  first  visit  to  the  capital. 
The  multitude  of  churches  and  the  able  pastors 
filled  her  with  delight  —  yet,  Washington  was  an 
unholy  place  in  her  eyes.  She  wrote  home,  "The 
play-actors  have  sent  me  a  letter  requesting  my 
countenance.  No.  Tickets  come,  to  balls  and 
parties.  No,  not  one.  Mr.  Jackson  encourages  me 
and  wishes  me  to  remain  steadfast."  In  another 
letter  she  admits  she*  has  been  to  a  playhouse,  but 
adds  that  if  her  friends  could  know  what  she  suf 
fered  and  the  loathing  she  felt,  they  would  forgive 
her. 

Her  visit  was  at  the  time  when  Lafayette  was 
the  nation's  guest ;  he  treated  this  uncultured  woman 
with  the  greatest  attention  and  respect.  He  had 
tasted  her  hospitality  at  the  Hermitage,  and  seen  her 
sweetness  and  beneficence  to  all  about  her. 


ISO  MRS.    JACKSON. 

It  seemed  impossible  for  her  to  catch  a  grace  from 
contact  with  refined  society. 

Once,  when  an  army  officer  was  visiting  the  gen 
eral,  she  sat  down  by  his  side  with  her  corn-cob  pipe, 
after  taking  a  few  whiffs,  passed  it,  and  said, 
"Honey,  won't  you  take  a  smoke?" 

She  had  ^  always  been  opposed  to  her  husband's 
holding  office,  and  had  left  the  Hermitage  with  bitter 
regret  ;  the  pleasure  of  the  return  was  only  alloyed 
by  the  general's  disappointment. 

In  1828,  Jackson  was  again  a  nominee  for  the 
presidency,  and  never  was  there  so  bitter  a  contest. 

Now,  Mrs.  Jackson  began  to  reap  the  fruits  of  her 
early  indiscretion. 

Every  paper  of  the  opposition  was  crowded  with 
the  events  of  Jackson's  life.  The  shooting  of 
Dickinson  and  his  military  executions  were  called 
murders.  The  paragraph  which  preceded  all  others, 
headed  by  the  largest  capitals,  was,  "  Marriage  Be 
fore  Divorce." 

Mrs.  Jackson  had  long  had  an  affection  of  the 
heart,  and  excitement  brought  on  spasms.  That  her 
good  name  should  be  trailed  in  the  mire,  that,  by 
any  act  of  hers,  her  adored  husband  should  be 
taunted  with  shame,  increased  her  malady  to  an 
alarming  degree.  She  said  nothing,  but  her  face 
bore  traces  of  tears  and  suffering.  When  the  con 
test  was  over,  she  said,  "  I  am  glad  for  Mr.  Jackson ; 


MRS.    JACKSON.  15  I 

for  myself,  I  never  wished  it."  She  shrank  from  the 
life  in  the  White  House  more  than  ever.  Her  hus 
band  had  tried  to  keep  every  abusive  line  from  her 
sight  and,  now  that  the  election  was  settled,  hoped 
the  subject  of  "marriage  before  divorce"  would  be 
dropped,  and  all  would  be  well. 

In  December,  after  a  day's  shopping  in  town,  she 
was  resting  at  a  hotel,  waiting  for  her  carriage,  — 
two  women  sat  in  the  next  room  ;  one  told  the  other 
the  story  of  the  twice-repeated  marriage  of  the 
President-elect.  It  was  told  in  coarse  language,  with 
abusive  epithets  and  cruel  exaggeration. 

"  An  adulteress  —  a  bigamist !  " 

The  words  burned  into  her  very  soul.  The  ex 
citement  brought  on  the  terrible  pain.  For  sixty 
hours  she  lay  writhing  in  agony,  struggling  for 
breath.  Jackson  never  left  her  side. 

On  the  twenty-third,  the  towns-people  were  to  give 
a  grand  dinner,  in  honor  of  the  general's  success. 

Mrs.  Jackson  remembered  it,,  and  at  the  first 
moment  of  ease  and  recovered  breath  she  spoke  of 
it  and  begged  him  to  leave  her  and  take  some  rest. 

He   kissed  and    bade   her   good  night.     In   a  few 

% 
moments  there  was  a  long,  low  cry,  —  he  sprang  to 

her  side,  but  the  "  mortal  had  put  on  immortality." 

He  would  not  believe  it,  would  have  her  bled  ;  as 

no  blood  flowed,  ordered  one  to  try  her  temple,  stood 

over  her,  rubbed  her.     When  told  that  all  had  been 


152  MRS.   JACKSON. 

done  that  could  be  clone,  and  she  must  be  prepared 
for  burial,  he  asked  one  to  spread  many  blankets, 
pathetically  saying,  "  If  she  do  come  to,  she  will  lie 
so  hard." 

All  night  he  sat  by  her  side,  looking  into  her 
face,  feeling  her  heart  and  pulse.  All  the  next  day 
it  was  the  same  ;  he  only  took  a  little  coffee  brought 
by  loving  hands.  At  times  he  would  snatch  the 
body  in  his  arms  and  hold  it  tightly  to  his  bosom 
until  pitying  friends  forced  it  from  his  embrace. 

The  table  for  the  triumphant  banquet  was  well- 
nigh  spread,  when  a  messenger  from  the  Hermitage 
rode  into  town,  changing  joy  into  mourning. 

Nashville  ladies  arrayed  the  body  for  burial  in 
the  white  satin  prepared  for  the  inaugural  ball,  with 
kid  gloves  and  slippers.  Pearl  necklace  and  ear 
rings  were  the  finishing  touch,  but  these  were  re 
moved  at  the  request  of  a  niece. 

Mrs.  Jackson  was  buried  at  the  foot  of  the  Her 
mitage  garden  ;  the  General,  too  exhausted  to  walk, 
was  supported  by  his  friends.  The  house  and  farm 
servants  were  all  present,  shrieking  and  giving  way 
to  the  most  demonstrative  grief.  Such  a  scene  was 
said  to  have  never  never  been  witnessed. 

Jackson  inscribed  on  her  tablet  :  "  Her  face  was 
fair,  her  person  pleasing,  her  temper  amiable,  her  heart 
kind.  ...  A  being  so  gentle  and  so  virtuous,  slander 
might  wound  but  could  not  dishonor.  Even  death, 


MRS.    JACKSON.  153 

when    he    tore    her  from  the  arms  of    her  husband, 
could  but  transport  her  to  the  bosom  of  her  God." 

Amid  the  grief  felt  for  this  truly  good  woman, 
there  was  a  sense  of  relief  that  she  was  never  to 
preside  over  the  Executive  Mansion. 

Her  death  wrought  a  change  in  Jackson,  at  least 
he  did  not  swear  any  more  ;  only  under  intense  ex 
citement  and  extreme  provocation  the  "  by  the 
Eternal  "  would  sometimes  slip  out.  He  went  to 
church,  read  his  Bible,  and  said  his  prayers  before 
his  wife's  picture,  as  the  Catholics  do  before  the 
Virgin,  avowing  if  she  weren't  in  Heaven,  he  didn't 
wish  to  go  there. 

The  inauguration  was  unlike  any  that  had  pre 
ceded  it.  The  President-elect  rode  to  the  Capitol 
on  his  own  favorite  horse,  surrounded  by  the  mili 
tary,  bands  playing  and  artillery  booming.  The 
debut  into  the  Executive  Mansion  was  made,  at 
tended  by  a  motley  crowd,  which  soon  became  a 
noisy  mob.  Barrels  of  punch  had  been  provided, 
were  drained  to  the  lees,  and  the  glasses  smashed, 
the  scene  ending  in  a  disgraceful,  drunken  row ; 
even  the  person  of  the  President  had  to  be  protected 
from  the  mob  by  his  friends. 

If  Jackson  were  bowed  with  grief  and  had  "aged 
twenty  years  in  a  night,"  his  spirit  for  managing 
the  affairs  of  the  nation  was  not  all  impaired,  and 
he  entered  upon  his  duties  with  such  vigor  and 


154  MRS-    JACKSON. 

determination  that  he  alarmed  his  foes  and  amazed 
his  friends,  who  seemed  to  think,  as  Webster  said, 
that  the  country  was  rescued  from  some  dreadful 
clanger. 

He  deemed  it  to  be  his  first  duty  to  ferret  out  and 
take  vengeance,  by  political  decapitation,  upon  all, 
who  had  spoken  against  his  wife;  the  next,  upon 
those  who  had  actively  differed  from  himself,  or 
had  doubted  his  policy  in  Florida ;  when  these  two 
sweet  morsels  were  well  rolled  under  his  tongue,  he 
made  a  clean  sweep  of  all  the  office-holders  left,  for 
the  benefit  of  his  friends  and  his  wife's  relatives  — 
simply  "rotation  in  office"  — "  to  the  victor  belong 
the  spoils,"  said  the  recipients  of  his  bounty. 

The  tariff,  at  first  distasteful  to  the  South,  was  fast 
becoming  an  abomination  ;  the  North  was  more 
prosperous,  and  she  took  the  ground  that  she  was 
assisting  it  to  be  so  at  her  own  expense. 

South  Carolina  didn't  say  this  time  that  she  was 
going  to  blot  out  her  star  and  sit  outside  of  the 
Union  ;  oh  no,  she  was  simply  going  to  refuse  to 
obey  one  of  the  laws  of  the  United  States,  which 
worked  unfavorably  for  her  section,  the  President 
was  a  Southern  man  and  would  naturally  be  mindful 
of  Southern  interests,  and  of  course  the  law  would 
be  repealed. 

The  first  insight  South  Carolina  obtained  of  the 
President's  leaning  was  by  an  ominous  toast  given 


MRS.    JACKSON.  155 

for  a  dinner  celebrating  Jefferson's  birthday:  "The 
Federal  Union  —  it  must  be  preserved."  He  gave 
it  more  significance  by  saying  "  must  and  shall." 
His  shall  and  shan't  were  so  vigorously  backed  up, 
that  the  words  had  more  than  an  ordinary  meaning, 
but  the  '  shall  '  this  time  was  omitted  for  the  press. 

The  legislature  of  South  Carolina  convened  and 
put  her  decision  before  the  country  by  passing  an 
ordinance  declaring  the  tariff  null  and  void,  em 
phasizing  it  by  little  threats,  which  played  around 
Jackson's  political  horizon  as  harmlessly  as  heat 
lightning  on  a  summer's  evening. 

The  governor  endorsed  the  legislature,  and  the 
first  day  of  February  was  the  time  when  obedience 
was  to  end,  and  if  need  were,  resistance  to  begin. 
He  made  an  address  full  of  high-sounding  words, 
claiming  that  the  laws  of  the  state  were  paramount 
for  her  citizens ;  talked  loudly  of  the  footsteps  of 
invaders,  —  of  the  sacred  soil,  stained  by  the  blood  of 
her  sons.  If  other  states  stood  aloof  in  enforcing 
"  reform,"  South  Carolina  would  proudly  stand 
"alone."  "Given  a  fair  field,"  she  would  defy  the 
majesty  of  the  United  States  ;  if  she  should  succeed 
in  this  Herculean  scheme,  hers  would  be  "glory 
enough,"  and  if  she  failed,  the  "entire  South,  nay, 
the  whole  Union  "  would  "attest  her  virtues." 

Volunteers  sprang  to  arms,  ready  to  march  at  a 
moment's  notice.  The  women  were  as  full  of  en- 


156  MRS.    JACKSON. 

thusiasm  as  Southern  women  usually  are  in  time  of 
war.  Husbands  and  lovers  wore  blue  cockades 
adorned  by  palmetto  buttons  made  and  pinned  on 
by  their  fair  fingers, — its  mate  worn  upon  their  own 
bosoms. 

In  the  early  stage,  the  President  had,  apparently, 
calmly  noted  events,  saying  in  his  homely  phrase 
ology,  "  If  this  go  on,  our  country  will  be  like  a  bag 
of  meal,  with  both  ends  open.  Pick  it  up  in  the 
middle,  or  endwise,  it  will  run  out."  However, 
many  a  secret  order  had  he  given,  and  the  military 
and  naval  force  of  the  country  were  stationed  at 
the  South  and  prepared  for  celerity  of  movement. 

By  the  middle  of  January,  the  treasonable  proc 
lamation  of  South  Carolina's  governor  reached 
Washington,  with  additional  particulars.  The  sons 
of  the  "sacred  soil,"  had  gone  so  far  as  to  strike  off 
medals,  inscribed  with  the  name  of  John  Catiline 
Calhoun,  as  "first  president  of  the  Southern  Con 
federacy."  A  flag  was  designed  and  ready  to  be 
flung  to  the  breeze  ;  they  had  hung  the  United 
States'  flag  with  the  stars  downward,  hoping,  perhaps, 
that  they  would  fall  away,  as  the  meal  from  the  bag. 

Calhoun  had  resigned  the  vice-presidency  to  take 
a  seat  in  the  senate,  A  few  weeks  before  he  had 
come  from  South  Carolina,  and  his  journey  has  been 
likened  to  that  of  Luther's  to  the  Diet  of  Worms. 
Could  he,  would  he  take  the  oath  to  support  the 


MRS.    JACKSON.  I  57 

Constitution  of  the  United  States,  was  the  question 
of  the  day.  "The  floor  of  the  senate  chamber  and 
the  galleries  were  thronged  with  spectators.  They 
saw  him  take  the  oath  with  a  solemnity  and  dignity 
appropriate  to  the  occasion,  and  then  calmly  seat 
himself  on  the  right  of  the  chair,  among  his  old 
political  friends,  nearly  all  of  whom  were  now 
arrayed  against  him." 

Only  traitors  did  Andrew  Jackson  hate  worse 
than  the  British.  He  had  suspected  Calhoun,  and 
now  he  was  sure  that  the  arch-iiullifier  was  bent  on 
mischief.  He  resolved  and  openly  avowed  that  at 
the  first  act  of  resistance  to  law  in  South  Carolina, 
he  should  be  taken  as  prisoner  of  State  and  tried  for 
treason,  —  indeed  every  member  of  Congress  from 
that  state  was  to  be  held  responsible. 

Jackson  issued  a  proclamation  and  asked  from 
Congress  an  enlargement  of  the  executive  power, 
which  was  granted  by  a  bill  called  the  Force  Bill,— 
by  South  Carolina,  the  Bloody  Bill.  The  first  day  of 
February  came  and  went,  duties  were  collected, 
blood  wasn't  spilled  and  guns  weren't  fired.  Is 
anybody  frightened  ?  was  asked.  Some  said  Cal 
houn  was,  and  others  said  that  the  enthusiastic  rally 
round  Jackson  convinced  him  that  nullification,  as 
well  as  secession,  would  be  met  by  force,  and  force 
sufficient  to  make  it  on  the  winning  side. 

Twelve  days  of  excitement  and  expectancy  went 


158  MRS.   JACKSON. 

by  and  South  Carolina  wasn't  quite  sure  on  what 
day  nullification  would  practically  begin. 

The  President  in  his  message  had  suggested  a 
modification  of  the  tariff,  and  Henry  Clay,  who  was 
always  tinkering  at  the  cracks  in  the  Union,  brought 
forward  his  famous  Compromise  Bill,  offering  a 
gradual  reduction  of  the  tariff.  It  was  an  easy  way 
out  of  the  difficulty,  but  there  was  an  amendment 
tacked  on  to  it  by  those  in  the  manufacturing  in 
terest,  making  provision  for  home  valuation,  which 
made  it  very  humiliating  for  the  Calhoun  party  to 
vote  for  it. 

The  opposition  insisted  that  they  should,  lest  in 
time  they  might  repudiate  it ;  they  still  held  off,  and 
the  Protectionists  threatened  to  defeat  the  measure. 
Clayton  of  Delaware  said  :  "  If  they  cannot  vote  for 
a  bill  to  save  their  necks  from  a  halter,  their  necks 

•0 

may  stretch."  The  bill  with  the  amendment  did 
finally  pass  supported  by  the  nullifiers,  and  South 
Carolina  repealed  her  ordinance. 

From  the  beginning  of  his  administration,  Jackson 
had  had  a  prejudice  against  the  United  States  Bank. 
The  more  attention  he  paid  to  it,  the  worse  he 
thought  it  to  be  ;  believed  it  was  insolvent,  believed 
it  was  a  political  machine;  thought  "credit,  crime; 
and  banking,  robbery,"  and  he  resolved  to  remove 
the  public  deposits.  There  was  a  tremendous  oppo 
sition. 


MRS.    JACKSON.  159 

To-day,  the  measure  is  thought  to  have  been  a 
wise  one,  but  as  there  was  no  organized  plan  for  the 
management  of  the  government  finances,  it  occa 
sioned  great  distress  and  a  financial  panic.  Jackson 
was  assailed  on  all  sides.  Clay  called  the  measure 
an  "open,  palpable,  and  daring  usurpation."  Cal- 
houn  said  worse  things  and  Webster  opposed,  but 
more  temperately.  Petitions  and  memorials  were 
sent  Jackson  from  all  parts  of  the  Union.  To  one 
deputation  he  said,  "  If  the  people  send  ten  thou 
sand  memorials,  signed  by  all  the  men,  women,  and 
children  in  the  land,  and  bearing  the  names  of  all 
on  the  gravestones,  I  will  not  relax  a  particle  from 
my  position." 

Clay  offered  a  vote  of  censure,  which  the  Senate 
approved,  but  the  undaunted  President  stood  by  his 
colors  and  declared  himself  to  be  the  "  direct  repre 
sentative  of  the  American  people."  One  of  the 
cabinet  said  there  was  "  no  Secretary  of  State,  no 
Senate,  no  anybody  save  Andrew  Jackson."  So  he 
went  on,  in  his  ignorant,  hot-headed  way,  and  sowed 
the  seeds  of  the  terrible  disaster  which  came  later, 
and  thousands  upon  thousands  lost  their  all,  and  the 
working  classes,  left  without  employment,  were 
reduced  to  absolute  beggary. 

Benton  worked,  as  if  it  were  the  object  for  which 
he  was  born,  to  expunge  from  the  record  of  the  Sen 
ate,  the  vote  of  censure  against  Andrew  Jackson. 


l6o  MRS.    JACKSON. 

It  was  finally  done  by  a  vote  of  twenty-four  to  nine 
teen,  and  broad  black  lines  were  drawn  around  it,  as 
if  it  were  put  into  mourning  for  ever  being  written. 
"  Expunged  by  order  of  the  Senate,  this  sixteenth 
clay  of  January,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord,  1837,"  was 
written  across  it. 

"The  gratification  of  the  President  was  extreme/' 
and  "  he  gave  a  grand  dinner  to  the  expungers  and 
their  wives." 

Another  difficulty  loomed  up  in  this  stormy 
administration.  In  the  settlement  with  Napoleon 
for  injuries  done  to  American  shipping,  a  large 
indemnity  had  been  claimed,  and  the  justice  of 
it  admitted  by  the  French,  but  the  amount  was 
never  settled  and  the  claim  had  never  been 
pushed. 

Jackson  had  paid  his  own  debts  by  selling  prop 
erty  at  a  sacrifice,  and  he  meant  that  individuals  and 
nations  with  whom  he  had  to  deal  should  pay  theirs. 
He  pushed  these  claims  so  vigorously  that  Louis 
Philippe  arranged  a  treaty  by  which  five  million 
dollars  were  to  be  paid  in  six  instalments,  and  the 
dates  of  payment  fixed.  Pay  day  came,  but  no 
money  ;  the  plea  was  that  no  appropriation  had 
been  made  by  the  French  Chambers.  A  lame 
excuse  to  offer  Andrew  Jackson !  His  Irish  blood 
was  up,  and  in  his  annual  message  he  blazed  away 
about  passing  a  law  authorizing  "reprisals"  upon 


MRS.    JACKSON.  l6l 

French  property,  if  the  money  were  not  forthcoming, 
tonte  suite. 

Debtors  often  mount  high  horses,  if  creditors 
under  the  pressure  of  their  wrongs  are  a  little 
savage,  The  French  took  the  ground  that  they 
had  been  wantonly  insulted,  that  the  message  was 
almost  an  open  declaration  of  war.  They  weren't 
to  be  coerced  into  honesty,  they  wouldn't  pay  at  all, 
—  withdrew  their  minister  and  sent  home  ours. 
They  little  knew  with  whom  they  had  to  deal  ! 

Jackson  and  Clay  were  bitter  enemies,  but  Clay 
was  a  patriot,  and  with  his  silvery-toned  eloquence 
and  conciliatory  way  of  putting  things,  he  some 
what  appeased  the  French  frenzy,  and  they  went 
so  far  as  to  say  that  the  claim  should  be  paid  at 
once,  if  an  apology  were  offered  for  the  threats 
which  had  been  made.  Jackson  would  sooner  have 
been  drawn  in  quarters  than  have  made  one,  but  he 
was  persuaded  to  say  that  his  message  was  not 
meant  as  a  "  menace,"  but  there  was  no  abatement 
of  determination  or  tone  that  the  money  should  be 
paid,  come  what  might.  He  urged  an  increase  of 
the  navy  and  the  completion  of  all  the  coast  de 
fences,  and  for  once  the  opposition  gave  him  sup 
port.  Things  looked  more  warlike  than  ever. 

England,  who  had  helped  us  into  the  difficulty, 
interposed  with  her  good  offices  to  help  us  out  by 
mediation.  Jackson  blandly  accepted,  but  emphati- 


1 62  MRS.    JACKSON. 

cally  assured  them,  they  need  listen  to  no  over 
tures,  which  included  an  apology.  His  incidental 
expression  that  his  words  were  not  meant  for  a 
"  menace "  was  graciously  twisted  by  the  French 
into  a  sufficient  apology.  The  money  was  paid, 
four  instalments  in  one. 

Three  years  before,  when  the  rirst  payment  was 
expected,  commissioners  had  been  appointed  to 
divide  it  among  the  claimants,  but  when  it  was 
really  paid  in  quadruple  quantity,  Congress  dropped 
it  into  the  treasury  as  if  it  were  government  money. 
Now  and  then  the  heirs  of  the  claimants  lift  up  their 
voices,  but,  as  Sumner  said,  the  French  claims  are 
likely  to  become  immortal. 

The  last  of  the  Indian  wars  came  in  Jackson's 
administration  ;  one  was  called  the  Black  Hawk 
War,  in  which  the  famous  chief  was  captured, 
and  held  as  a  hostage.  He  was  taken  through  the 
principal  cities  of  the  United  States,  imprisoned  at 
Fortress  Monroe,  and  at  the  end  of  a  year  allowed 
to  rejoin  his  tribe;  the  other  was  with  the  Seminoles, 
headed  by  the  half-breed  Osceola,  who  was  defeated 
and  his  power  broken,  at  Okeechobee.  He  after 
wards  visited  the  camp  of  General  Jessup  under  a 
flag  of  truce,  was  seized,  and  sent  to  Fort  Moultrie, 
where  he  died  the  following  year. 

One  of  Jackson's  pet  hobbies  was  the  payment  of 
the  public  debt.  Year  by  year  he  reduced  it,  even 


MRS.    JACKSON.  163 

curtailing  public  improvements  for  the  purpose. 
Money  poured  into  the  treasury  from  the  sale  of  the 
public  lands,  and  when  the  last  dollar  of  the  debt 
was  paid,  there  was  still  a  surplus,  which  was  divided 
among  the  States. 

Mrs.  Jackson  had  a  very  beautiful  niece,  called 
the  Flower  of  Tennessee,  who  married  her  cousin 
Andrew  Jackson  Donelson.  Jackson  took  the  pair 
to  the  White  House,  one  as  private  secretary,  the 
other  as  hostess.  Her  grace,  polish,  tact,  and  wit, 
restored  some  of  the  splendor  of  Queen  Dolly's  day. 

There  had  been  a  political  outcry  over  the  palatial 
style  of  the  Executive  Mansion  under  John  Quincy 
Adams,  but  a  large  sum  had  been  appropriated  for 
its  refurnishing  at  the  incoming  of  his  successor. 
The  East  Room  was  more  elegantly  fitted  than  ever. 
The  four  marble  mantelpieces,  surmounted  by  mir 
rors,  seen  there  to-day,  were  put  in  at  that  time. 

General  Jackson  kept  up  the  same  profuse  hospi 
tality  to  which  he  had  been  accustomed  at  the 
Hermitage,  and,  like  Jefferson,  had  to  draw  largely 
upon  his  private  means  to  meet  his  expenses. 
Horse-racing  and  cock-fighting  had  been  his  favorite 
amusements  at  home.  Horses  and  cocks  were 
brought  to  Washington  to  enter  the  lists.  Either 
the  confinement,  the  journey,  or  change  injured 
them  to  such  a  degree,  that  they  were  never  on 
the  winning  side,  and  the  General  lost  large  sums  of 


164  MRS.    JACKSON. 

money,  also  his  devotees,  whose  bets  were  always  in 
favor  of  his  cocks  and  horses. 

To  his  great  satisfaction,  his  son  married  a  Phila 
delphia  lady,  and  brought  his  bride  to  the  White 
House.  There  was  a  question  upon  whom  the  hon 
ors  of  lady  of  the  house  should  rest.  The  President 
settled  it,  by  saying  to  his  daughter-in-law  :  "  My 
dear,  you  are  mistress  of  my  home,  but  Emily  (Mrs. 
Donelson)  is  hostess  in  the  White  House."  Two 
marriages  were  celebrated  in  the  White  House,  — 
his  wife's  niece,  Miss  Euston,  to  Mr.  Polk,  of  Tennes 
see,  and  the  daughter  of  his  friend,  Major  Lewis,  to 
M.  Paqueot,  of  Martinique,  afterwards  French  minis 
ter  to  the  United  States. 

In  the  second  term,  the  health  of  Mrs.  Donelson 
failed,  and  she  went  to  Tennessee,  hoping  her  native 
air  would  restore  it,  but  she  was  stamped  with  con 
sumption  and  died  in  a  few  months,  leaving  several 
children. 

For  a  short  time  Mrs.  Jackson  presided  at  the 
White  House,  but  she  was  a  commonplace  woman, 
and  left  no  stamp  upon  it. 

General  Jackson  had  adopted  Martin  Van  Buren  as 
heir  apparent,  and,  as  usual,  the  people  endorsed  him. 

On  the  day  of  the  inauguration  the  pair  rode  from 
the  Executive  Mansion  to  the  Capitol  in  a  phaeton, 
made  from  the  wood  of  the  frigate  "  Constitution," 
drawn  by  four  gray  horses.  The  phaeton  was  a  gift 


MRS.    JACKSON.  165 

to  General  Jackson,  and  was  taken  to  the  "  Hermi 
tage."  He  remained  four  days  a  guest  of  Van  Buren, 
and  then  by  slow  and  easy  stages  returned  to  his 
home. 

He  found  his  private  affairs  involved,  and  every 
thing  out  of  repair ;  at  once  he  sold  a  part  of  his 
estate,  and,  as  he  said,  began  the  new  year  free 
from  debt.  As  his  property  was  invested  in  land 
and  negroes,  the  commercial  distress,  which  he  had 
brought  upon  the  country,  passed  over  him  lightly  ; 
he  even  had  no  sympathy  for  the  sufferers,  coolly 
saying,  "no  one  failed  who  ought  not  to  have  failed." 

Years  later,  his  son  entered  into  business  rela 
tions,  which  resulted  in  heavy  loss  and  failure.  The 
General  assumed  the  debts,  which  brought  him  to 
the  verge  of  ruin.  He  bent  his  pride  so  far  as  to 
ask  a  loan  from  a  friend,  —  the  loan  would  have  been 
a  gift,  could  he  have  been  prevailed  upon  to  have  it 
so  ;  but  before  he  made  his  request,  he  made  provi 
sion  for  payment. 

In  defending  New  Orleans,  he  had  illegally  ar 
rested  a  judge  and  bidden  defiance  to  a  writ  of  habeas 
corpus,  for  which  he  had  been  fined  one  thousand 
dollars,  and  promptly  paid.  When  the  story  of  his 
embarrassments  was  noised  abroad,  a  bill  for  refund 
ing  the  money  with  interest  was  introduced  in  Con 
gress.  The  bill  barely  passed  the  Senate,  but  the 
House  gave  it  a  large  majority, — even  Calhoun  voted 


1 66  MRS.    JACKSON. 

for  it.  The  money,  which  had  nearly  tripled,  was 
nothing  to  the  old  veteran  in  comparison  with  his 
satisfaction  in  what  he  called  an  endorsement  of  his 
action.  No  man  ever  more  ardently  wished  for  pos 
thumous  fame,  and  now  he  felt  that  even  the  shadow 
of  blame  was  lifted  from  his  career,  and  he  could  say, 
"  nunc  dimittis" 

A  curious  gift  was  presented  him  in  the  last  year 
of  his  life.  A  commodore  coming  from  the  East  had 
secured  a  sarcophagus,  which  was  believed  to  have 
held  the  body  of  Alexander  Severus,  and  believing 
Jackson  the  equal  of  the  magnificent  old  Roman  em 
peror,  he  tendered  it  to  him  for  his  final  resting- 
place. 

It  was  declined  with  thanks.  Had  he  cared  for  an 
emperor's  coffin,  it  seemed  like  disloyalty  to  his  wife, 
to  be  royally  entombed  by  her  side. 

Andrew  Jackson  was  not  one  to  combine  religion 
with  politics,  but  he  had  promised  his  wife  that  when 
he  was  through  with  one,  he  would  take  up  the  other. 
He  fulfilled  his  promise,  and  in  her  church  enrolled 
himself  as  Christ's  faithful  soldier.  Sins  of  commis 
sion  never  troubled  him,  but  the  omission  of  hanging 
Calhoun  he  thought  the  mistake  of  his  life,  and  he 
would  often  express  his  belief  that  had  he  done  it 
posterity  would  pronounce  it  the  best  act  of  his  life. 

He  kept  the  pistol  with  which  he  shot  Dickinson 
upon  the  mantelpiece  in  his  own  room,  as  if  it  were 


MRS.    JACKSON.  l6/ 

some  glorious  trophy,  and  if  one  looked  at  it  would 
coolly  explain  the  service  it  had  done. 

His  last  illness  was  very  long  and  very  distressing, 
but  the  irascible  old  man  bore  it  with  patience  that 
was  called  sublime. 

He  died  in  1845,  aged  seventy-eight 

Andrew  Jackson,  the  son,  inherited  the  entire  es 
tate  by  the  will  of  his  father,  but  he  went  on  with  his 
ruinous  speculations  and  died  insolvent,  leaving  his 
wife  penniless. 

The  "  Hermitage "  was  bought  by  the  State  of 
Tennessee,  in  1856,  and  Mrs.  Jackson  was  gener 
ously  offered  the  use  of  it  during  her  life. 

August  24th,  1887,  the  following  notice  appeared 
in  the  Nashville  papers  ,  — 

"  Mrs.  Sarah  Jackson,  wife  of  Andrew  Jackson,  Jr., 
and  mistress  of  the  White  House  during  President 
Jackson's  second  term,  died  at  the  '  Hermitage,'  yes 
terday,  aged  8 1  years." 


MRS.   VAN   BUREN. 

IN  the  little  village  of  Kinderhook,  New  York, 
just  at  the  close  of  the  Revolutionary  War,  were 
born  in  the  same  year,  two  children,  both  of  Dutch 
parentage.  They  played  together,  went  to  the  same 
school,  shared  the  same  pursuits.  The  boy  from  his 
earliest  years  loved  his  delicate  little  companion, 
and  as  he  grew  to  man's  estate  the  love  strength 
ened. 

He  was  no  child  of  fortune,  but  one  obliged  to 
make  his  own  way,  —  the  son  of  a  farmer  and  tavern- 
keeper  in  Kinderhook.  The  village  derived  its  name 
from  the  Dutch  sailors  who  first  sailed  up  the  Hud 
son.  They  were  amused  by  the  antics  of  some 
Indian  children,  playing  about  a  little  headland.  On 
their  return,  they  pointed  towards  the  place,  saying : 
"There  is  the  kinder's  hook."  Kinder  in  Dutch 
means  children,  and  hook,  point.  Some  of  the 
sailors  came  back  with  their  families  and  settled 
there,  and  the  place  never  lost  the  name. 

At  fourteen,  the  innkeeper's  boy  was  apprenticed  to 
the  village  lawyer  for  seven  years.  When  six  were 
ended,  he  was  allowed  to  go  to  New  York,  and  in 

168 


MRS.    VAN    BUREN.  169 

the  office  of  Van  Ness,  — famed  in  after  years  as  the 
second  of  Burr,  in  his  duel  with  Hamilton,  —  he 
rounded  out  his  seventh  year,  went  back  to  his 
village  home,  and  opened  an  office. 

Markedly  handsome,  cordial  in  his  manner,  with 
shining  abilities,  and  a  temper  that  nothing  could 
ruffle,  he  won  his  way  to  competency. 

When  twenty-five,  he  asked  the  girl  whom  he  had 
been  wooing  all  his  life  to  become  his  wife,  and  Miss 
Hannah  Hoes  became  Mrs.  Martin  Van  Buren. 

After  ten  prosperous,  happy  years,  when  four  fine 
boys  filled  the  nursery,  the  wife  drooped  and  fell  a 
victim  to  consumption. 

Years  after,  when  Van  Buren  had  become  famous, 
and  the  world  sought  to  know  something  of  his  early 
life,  and  that  of  his  dead  wife,  little  could  be  learned 
of  her,  save  that  she  was  shy  and  retiring,  scarcely 
known  out  of  her  own  home,  except  among  the  poor, 
in  whose  hearts  she  lived,  long  after  she  was  forgot 
ten  by  her  own  social  circle. 

Van  Buren  filled  the  offices  of  State  Senator, 
Attorney-General,  and  United  States  Senator,  —  the 
latter  he  resigned  upon  being  chosen  Governor  of 
New  York.  He  had  become  a  politician,  so  skilful 
and  sagacious  that  he  was  called  the  "  Little  Magi 
cian."  It  was  he  who  pulled  the  wires  which  placed 
Jackson  at  the  head  of  the  nation.  Jackson  rewarded 
his  labors  by  appointing  him  Secretary  of  State. 


MRS.    VAN    BUREN. 

At  the  outset  of  the  administration  there  was  one 
of  the  strangest  difficulties  which  ever  disturbed  the 
government  of  a  nation,  and  led  to  the  most  astonish 
ing  results,  —  broke  up  the  cabinet,  politically  ruined 
Calhoun,  brought  F.  P.  Blair  to  prominence,  and 
made  Van  Buren  President,  indeed,  is  said  to  have 
changed  American  history. 

General  Jackson  had  appointed  Major  Eaton,  a 
neighbor  and  warm  friend  of  his,  to  a  place  in  his 
cabinet.  Eaton  had  married  the  widow  of  Purser 
Timberlake,  who  committed  suicide  while  on  service 
in  the  Mediterranean. 

The  woman  was  the  daughter  of  an  Irishman,  Wil 
liam  O'Neil,  the  keeper  of  an  old-fashioned  tavern  in 
Washington,  where  the  members  of  Congress  board 
ed.  Witty,  pretty,  and  saucy,  the  girl,  called  Peg 
O'Neil,  waited  and  tended  upon  her  father's  guests. 
It  is  hardly  strange  that,  amid  such  surroundings, 
such  a  girl  should  become  somewhat  loose  and  too 
vivacious  in  her  manners — her  matchless  beauty 
and  wonderful  grace  turned  the  heads  of  half  the 
men  in  Washington.  The  fastidious,  aristocratic 
Pinckney,  dedicated  a  poem  to  her,  which  has  often 
since  been  quoted,  when  one  would  offer  incense  to 
a  fair  woman,  —  beginning,  — 

"  I  fill  this  cup  to  one  made  up 
Of  loveliness  alone, 
A  woman  of  her  gentle  sex 
The  seeming  pajagon ; 


MRS.    VAN    BUREN.  I/I 

"  To  whom  the  better  elements 
And  kindly  stars  have  given 
A  form  so  fair  that,  like  the  air, 
'Tis  less  of  earth  than  heaven." 

In  her  gay,  innocent  girlhood,  Mrs.  Madison  once 
crowned  her  at  a  public  ball  as  "  the  prettiest  girl  in 
Washington." 

In  both  her  marriages  there  had  been  some  irreg 
ularities,  or  rather  floating  stories  to  that  effect, 
which  had  sullied  her  good  name. 

As  soon  as  she  knew  she  was  a  widow,  she  mar 
ried  Major  Eaton  ;  it  was  a  gay  wedding,  attended 
by  the  President,  Vice-President  Calhoun,  half  the 
members  of  Congress,  with  a  sprinkling  of  the  dis 
tinguished  of  the  army  and  navy,  though  but  a  small 
number  were  accompanied  by  their  wives. 

The  wedding  bells  had  rung,  and  Mrs.  Eaton  was 
one  of  the  ladies  of  the  cabinet,  creme  de  la  creme  of 
society.  The  ladies  were  in  dismay ;  perhaps  the 
charms  of  the  bride  and  the  open  admiration  of  their 
husbands  influenced  them  more  than  they  would 
have  admitted  ;  they  met  and  talked  the  situation 
over,  the  decision  was  that  she  should  never  be 
recognized  as  one  of  their  sacred  circle,  and  the 
wives  of  the  foreign  ministers  were  bound  to  be 
equally  immaculate  in  their  social  status. 

General  Jackson's  grief  for  his  own  wife,  killed  by 
scandal,  was  in  its  first  fresh  bitterness.  His  strong 
feelings  were  enlisted,  and  he  placed  himself  on  the 


172  MRS.    VAN    BUREN.  » 

side  of  this  ostracised  woman.  He  employed  men  to 
trace  the  foul  stories  to  their  source,  even  sent  one  to 
New  York,  wrote  with  his  own  hand  letters  enough 
to  make  a  volume,  and  disproved  every  tale  and  rumor 
to  his  own  satisfaction.  Never  had  woman  a  more 
zealous  advocate  than  this  old  soldier,  never  con 
quered  until  he  sought  to  bend  woman  to  his  will. 
He  found  circumventing  Indians  and  mowing  down 
the  British  had  been  an  easier  task. 

When  Jackson's  own  clergyman  cast  a  stone  at 
his  favorite,  he  taught  him  Bible  doctrine  in  very 
plain  words,  left  the  church,  and  never  entered  it 
again.  He  called  a  cabinet  meeting,  not  to  discuss 
national  affairs,  but  to  demand  of-  the  members  that 
their  wives  should  call  on  this  woman.  One  said  : 
"  You  seem  to  labor  under  a  misapprehension,  Mr. 
President,  as  to  who  is  general  in  my  family." 

He  bade  his  niece  call  on  Mrs.  Eaton.  She  would 
receive  her  as  any  other  guest  who  came  to  the 
White  House,  but  she  was  firm  in  her  refusal  of  not 
visiting  her  in  her  own  home.  He  intimated  that  if 
that  were  her  decision,  she  had  better  go  home  to 
Tennessee,  and  to  Tennessee  she  went,  followed  by 
her  husband.  The  old  man's  heart  yearned  for 
those  he  called  the  children  of  his  dead  wife,  and 
in  six  months  they  were  recalled. 

For  two  years  this  unseemly,  undignified  quarrel 
raged.  Office-seekers,  whose  name  was  legion, 


MRS.    VAN    BLJREN.  1/3 

were  advised  that  the  surest  way  of  winning  success 
was  to  be  on  the  visiting  list  of  Mrs.  Eaton  ;  the 
men  came  unaccompanied  by  their  wives,  and  of 
course  made  no  difficulty. 

Mr.  Van  Buren,  having  neither  wife  nor  daughter, 
was  profuse  in  his  attentions,  and  treated  her  with 
every  mark  of  respect.  The  English  and  Russian 
ministers  were  bachelors  and  quite  willing  to  assist 
the  Secretary  of  State  in  floating  "  Bellona,"  as  Mrs. 
Eaton  was  called  by  the  press. 

After  Mr.  Van  Buren  had  given  a  dinner  and 
party  in  her  honor,  the  British  minister  gave  a  ball 
and  supper.  If  she  were  led  upon  the  floor,  the 
dancers,  without  marked  rudeness,  seemed  to  form 
a  dissolving  view.  The  host  took  her  in  to  supper, 
and,  as  if  she  were  the  most  distinguished  guest, 
placed  her  at  the  head  of  his  table.  The  ladies 
were  more  blind  than  those  born  blind  —  the  kind 
that  wouldn't  see.  Their  power  of  ignoring  the 
woman  was  a  marvel  to  the  men. 

The  minister  of  England  had  been  outwitted.  A 
Baron  of  Russia  stepped  to  the  front,  with  plans  so 
well  laid  that  it  was  thought  they  could  not  go  awry. 

"  The  best  laid  schemes  o'  mice  an'  men, 
Gang  aft  agley." 

How  little  they  knew  of  the  mood  of  woman  when 
she  won't ! 

The   night    of  the  ball  came,   the  imwedded  gen- 


MRS-    VAN    BUREN. 

tlemen  paid  court  to  Mrs.  Eaton  through  the  dan 
cing,  not  leading  her  upon  the  floor.  The  supper  was 
to  be  the  grand  piece  of  diplomacy.  Only  ladies  sat. 
The  wife  of  the  ambassador  of  Holland  was  high 
bred,  markedly  courteous  and  affable.  At  the  re 
quest  of  the  Baron,  Major  Eaton  offered  her  his 
arm.  She  instinctively  drew  back,  but  the  pained 
look  on  his  face  softened  her  to  an  acceptance.  He 
led  her  to  a  seat  beside  his  wife.  The  woman  was 
no  dupe,  though  courtesy  might  veil  her  acuteness. 
She  turned,  took  her  husband's  arm,  and  left  the 
room.  The  Dutch  shared  not  the  festive  board  of 
the  Russian  that  night. 

Mrs.  Eaton  related  her  evening's  experience  to 
Jackson  and  he  was  like  a  roaring  lion.  The  influ 
ence  of  his  wife  was  more  potent  than  when  she 
was  living,  and  he  repressed  the  oaths  in  which  he 
had  once  been  so  voluble,  even  "by  the  Eternal" 
slipped  out  only  in  unguarded  moments,  but  he 
threatened  to  send  the  pair  to  Holland,  as  he  had 
sent  his  children  to  Tennessee. 

He  would  give  a  grand  dinner  himself,  and  wives 
of  ministers  at  home  and  ministers  from  abroad  — 
wives  of  all  the  dignitaries  of  Washington  should 
see  what  lady  the  head  of  the  nation,  the  idol  of  the 
American  people,  delighted  to  honor. 

The  seat  at  his  right  hand  was  reserved,  and 
thither  the  English  minister  led  Mrs.  Eaton.  Gen- 


MRS.    VAN    BUREN.  1/5 

eral  Jackson  threw  into  his  manner  all  the  deference 
he  had  been  wont  to  show  his  wife,  thereby  thinking 
to  teach  his  guests  what  he  expected  from  them. 
Dinner  over,  they  retired  to  the  coffee-room,  where 
the  repartee  and  gay  laugh  went  round  —  no  lack  of 
gayety  and  social  abandon. 

However,  the  eyesight  of  the  ladies  had  not  im 
proved.  Had  Mrs.  Jackson  been  so  treated,  she 
would  have  kept,  broken-hearted,  within  the  recesses 
of  her  own  home.  This  was  not  the  way  of  Mrs. 
Eaton,  nee  O'Neil.  To  Major  Eaton,  life  was  a 
burden.  An  anonymous  letter  told  him  that  he 
was  to  be  roasted,  broiled,  and  baked,  and  he  felt 
that  it  was  literally  being  done. 

Woman's  will  had  proved  as  strong  as  Jackson's, 
and  he  too  resolved  upon  a  dissolving  view.  The 
cabinet  were  all  dismissed.  Clay  called  it  a  cleans 
ing  of  the  Augean  stable.  Such  a  thing  had  never 
happened  before,  and  in  the  political  world  it  seemed 
as  if  the  heavens  had  fallen. 

Those  who  had  bowed  before  the  shrine  of  her 
whom  Webster  called  the  "  Aaron's  serpent  of  the 
President's  desires,"  were  to  be  provided  with  places 
of  honor.  In  the  recess  of  Congress,  Matty,  as 
Jackson  fondly  called  his  favorite,  was  appointed 
minister  to  the  Court  of  St.  James.  Like  the  King 
of  France,  he  went  up  the  hill  and  soon  came  down 
again. 


1/6  MRS.    VAN    BUREN. 

Calhonn,  Webster,  and  Clay  were  men  of  might, 
and  at  the  opening  of  Congress  united  their 
'strength  against  the  confirmation.  On  the  even 
ing  of  the  day  that  the  London  papers  proclaimed 
Van  Buren's  rejection  in  flaming  capitals,  Talleyrand 
gave  a  crowded  party;  he  was  a  guest,  as  urbane 
and  dignified  as  if  "rejected"  by  the  Senate  had 
read  "confirmed." 

Calhoun,  who  hated  him,  said  to  a  friend,  who 
doubted  the  wisdom  of  the  recall,  "  It  will  kill  him, 
sir,  kill  Mm  dead.  He  will  never  kick,  sir,  never 
kick."  This  from  the  astute  Calhoun!  It  was  the 
petard  which  tossed  him  high  on  the  ladder  of 
political  fame,  and  four  years  later  into  the  seat, 
which  each  of  the  Titan  trio  was  ambitious  to  fill. 

Vice-President,  President,  and  Peg  O'Neil  had 
been  the  ace  of  trumps  in  the  game  which  had  been 
played. 

Major  Eaton  was  sent  first  to  Florida,  and,  later, 
minister  to  Spain,  where  he  remained  four  years,  — 
happy  years  for  Mrs.  Eaton,  who  led  there  a  brilliant, 
irreproachable  life.  Soon  after  their  return,  Major 
Eaton  died,  leaving  her  all  his  fortune,  which  she  lost 
by  foolishly  marrying,  at  the  age  of  sixty,  an  Italian 
music  teacher  of  twenty-one,  who  eloped  with  one 
of  her  daughters.  She  transmitted  her  marvellous 
beauty,  grace,  and  fascinations  ;  one  daughter  mar 
ried  Dr.  Randolph,  of  Virginia ;  another,  the  Duke  de 


MRS.    VAN    BUREN.  177 

Sampayo  in  Paris;  and  a  granddaughter,  the  Baron 
de  Rothschild,  of  Austria.  This  remarkable  woman 
died  in  1879,  at  tne  a&e  °f  eighty-three,  saying  at  the 
last,  "  I  am  not  afraid,  but  this  is  such  a  beautiful 
world." 

After  Van  Buren's  inauguration,  General  Jackson 
was  the  first  to  shake  hands  and  offer  him  cordial 
congratulations.  As  the  pair  rode  away,  the  cheers 
were  for  "Old  Hickory,"  who  had  risen  from  a  sick 
bed,  against-  the  advice  of  his  physician,  that  he 
might  grace  the  triumph  of  his  favorite  ;  a  smile 
of  satisfaction  lit  up  his  hard,  worn  features,  as 
bareheaded,  leaning  upon  his  cane,  holding  in  his 
hand  his  white  fur  hat,  crape  bound,  he  bowed 
right  and  left,  in  acknowledgment  of  the  honors 
paid  him.  The  old  hero  went  out  of  office  sur 
rounded  with  a  halo  of  glory. 

The  journey  to  Washington  was  easier,  and  made 
in  less  time  than  ever  before  ;  crowds  from  every 
state  had  poured  into  the  city,  rather  to  see  the  set 
ting  than  the  rising  sun.  Food  of  the  best,  rich 
wines,  and  punch  were  abundantly  provided,  but  not 
a  bed  upon  which  to  lay  one's  head,  —  that  is,  not  to 
exaggerate,  there  were  more  heads  than  beds. 

A  cry  for  them  went  up,  as  strong  as  King  Rich 
ard's  when  he  needed  a  horse.  The  floor  of  the 
marketplace  was  covered  with  men,  having  little  more 
than  a  wisp  of  straw  for  a  pillow.  Boston  guests 


1/  MRS.    VAN    BUREN. 

paid  fabulous  prices  for  barbers'  chairs,  and  even 
took  them,  turn  about. 

The  reception  was  nearly  as  disorderly  as  the  one 
eight  years  before,  when  "  Old  Hickory  "  was  roped 
in,  by  the  linking  of  his  friends  into  one  solid  mass, 
for  the  protection  of  his  person.  Fortunately,  the 
diplomatic  corps  came  later  and  by  themselves,  in 
their  court  dresses.  Van  Buren,  born  with  an  intui 
tive  sense  of  knowing  when  to  smile  and  when  to  re 
frain  from  smiling,  when  to  remain  silent,  and  if 
words  were  to  be  spoken  the  proper  ones  to  use,  was 
said  to  have  made  the  only  lapsus  lingnce  of  his  life  ; 
could  he  have  chosen,  he  would  have  sooner  made  it 
in  any  other  presence.  In  answering  the  congratu 
latory  speech  presented  by  their  dean,  he  addressed 
them  as  the  "democratic  corps;"  to  make  matters 
worse,  his  attention  was  called  to  it,  and  he  had  to 
say  what  he  did  mean. 

The  first  year  of  Van  Buren's  administration  was 
gloomy,  both  socially  and  politically.  The  Executive 
Mansion  was  without  a  mistress.  Jackson's  igno 
rance  and  lack  of  statesmanship  had  brought  upon 
the  country  a  financial  panic,  which  convulsed  the 
nation.  Business  men  and  states  were  bankrupt,  — 
even  the  United  States  government  could  not  pay 
its  debts,  —  a  state  of  affairs  which  would  have  sorely 
tried  the  stoutest  heart  and  strongest  mind,  but  the 
new  President  met  them  with  an  undaunted  front, 


MRS.    VAN    BUREN.  1 79 

which  surprised  his  enemies,  who  had  never  thought 
the  smooth,  courteous  gentleman  to  be  a  man  of 
courage. 

The  removal  of  the  deposits,  without  any  organ 
ized  plan  of  what  should  come  after  had  brought  all 
these  evils  upon  the  land,  and  such  statesmen  as 
Webster  and  Clay  could  find  no  panacea  but  restor 
ing  them.  Van  Buren  was  firm  in  his  purpose  of 
treading  in  the  footsteps  of  his  predecessor,  —  there 
was  to  be  no  step  backward. 

The  distribution  of  the  surplus  revenue,  the  con 
tests  over  the  Sub-Treasury  Bill  and  other  relief 
measures,  urged  by  the  President,  kept  the  country 
in  a  ferment,  and  made  a  wordy  war  on  the  floor  of 
Congress. 

Three  instalments  of  the  surplus  had  been  paid 
the  states  ;  when  the  fourth  and  last  became  due, 
the  President  proposed  to  withhold  it.  Further,  he 
declined  to  go,  on  the  ground  that  it  was  not  the 
office  of  government  to  relieve  the  people  from  finan 
cial  embarrassments,  or  to  negotiate  foreign  and  do 
mestic  exchanges. 

The  financial  misery  and  gloom  of  the  people, 
which  was  the  legacy  of  Jackson,  warred  against  his 
popularity  from  the  first,  and  already  there  was  an 
outlook  for,  and  the  discussion  of  a  successor. 

Few  of  the  presidents  have  lived  through  their 
term  of  office  without  some  sort  of  an  imbroglio  with 


l8O  MRS.    VAN    BUREN. 

England,  and  Van  Buren's  was  no  exception  to  the 
rule,  —  Lilliputian,  to  be  sure,  but  it  made  an  excite 
ment  at  the  time. 

The  Canadians  had  revolted  and  raised  the  stand 
ard  of  rebellion  against  England.  The  American 
people  knew  what  mercy,  power,  and  justice  meant 
when  wielded  by  British  statesmen,  and  the  sympathy 
of  those  on  the  frontiers  was  stirred  to  assist  in  what 
was  called  the  "  Patriot  War."  They  were  ready  to 
enlist  as  volunteers,  and  to  contribute  of  their  sub 
stance.  The  President  was  prompt, — said,  hands 
off,  and  sent  General  Scott  to  enforce  obedience ; 
warned  them  there  would  be  no  protection  of  the 
United  States  government  to  any  who  aided  the 
Canadians.  A  motley  company  of  adventurers  as 
sembled  at  Navy  Island  in  Niagara  River,  hired  a 
steamer,  called  the  "  Caroline,"  to  convey  their  gifts 
of  arms  and  provisions.  Colonel,  afterward  Sir  Al 
lan  McNabb  won  his  spurs  in  this  single  and  almost 
bloodless  campaign.  He  sent  a  boat  expedition  to 
seize  the  "  Caroline  "  at  the  old  Schlosser  dock.  A 
fight  took  place,  and  in  the  melee  one  American  was 
killed,  but  they  were  as  stanch  as  the  renowned 
Lawrence  in  not  giving  up  the  ship. 

The  British  conceived  the  bright  idea  of  firing  what 
they  could  not  capture.  When  it  was  one  sheet  of 
flame  and  had  burnt  away  its  fastenings,  it  floated 
away  over  Niagara  Falls. 


MRS.    VAN    BUREN.  l8l 

There  were  many  tiffs  in  the  northeast  between 
the  people  of  Maine  and  those  of  New  Brunswick 
over  their  boundaries.  Both  sides  threatened  to  take 
up  arms  which  would  have  brought  on  war  ;  they 
confined  themselves  to  threats  during  Van  Buren's 
reign,  and  it  was  an  open  question  for  his  successor. 

The  inauguration  of  Van  Buren  was  in  the  year 
that  the  widowed  Mrs.  Madison  returned  to  Wash 
ington.  Years  and  grief  had  not  destroyed  her 
social  charm  ;  she  was  still  a  leader  of  society,  the 
fascinating  "  Queen  Dolly." 

She  had  a  young  cousin,  daughter  of  Hon.  Richard 
S.  Singleton,  belonging  to  the  best  of  the  blue  blood 
of  South  Carolina,  who  came  to  pass  the  season  at 
the  capital.  At  Mrs.  Madison's  request,  Van  Buren 
appointed  a  day  to  receive  her  and  her  guest.  The 
girl's  intellect,  rare  beauty  (handed  down  by  Inman), 
and  varied  accomplishments,  at  once  made  her  a  fa 
vorite  of  the  courtly  President.  He  had  taken  pos 
session  of  the  White  House  accompanied  only  by  his 
four  sons,  but  it  was  maintained  with  as  much  ele 
gance  and  taste,  as  ever  under  any  woman's  sway. 
He  presided  over  the  dinners  and  receptions  with  per 
fect  tact  and  politeness.  His  glass,  china,  and  silver 
ware  surpassed  anything  that  had  ever  been  seen  in 
the  country,  and  his  gold-lined  spoons  gave  him  as 
much  obloquy  among  the  opposition,  as  if  he  had 
committed  treason. 


1 82  MRS.    VAN    BUREN. 

Mr.  Van  Buren's  eldest  son,  Abraham,  a  graduate 
of  West  Point  (had  served  as  aide-de-camp  to  Gen 
eral  Worth)  was  his  private  secretary  and  constant 
companion.  Great  was  his  satisfaction  on  being 
asked  by  this  young  gentleman  to  receive  Mrs. 
Madison's  charming  relative  as  a  daughter. 

The  next  season,  Miss  Angelica  Singleton  was  a 
bride  and  the  hostess  of  the  Executive  Mansion. 
Her  youth  and  beauty,  her  tact,  her  graciousness,  the 
patience  and  pleasant  courtesy,  which  never  flagged 
through  the  long  hours,  made  her  universally  ad 
mired.  Traditions  of  her  remind  one  of  the  fair 
lady  who  now  lends  such  a  charm  to  the  White 
House,  and  sheds  a  lustre  on  the  present  adminis 
tration. 

In  the  spring,  a  bridal  trip  was  taken  to  Europe. 

Those  Guelph  men,  who  had  for  so  many  years 
disgraced  the  nation  had  passed  away,  and  the 
young  Victoria  (recently  crowned),  a  maiden,  under 
the  wing  of  her  mother,  was  holding  a  gay  court, 
thronged  by  distinguished  foreigners,  among  whom 
was  the  Czar  of  Russia  and  the  Prince  of  Orange. 

Our  Republican  lady  was  a  niece  of  the  American 
Minister,  which,  added  to  her  position  in  the  Presi 
dent's  family,  gave  her  advantages  and  an  entrance 
into  the  court  circle  which  no  other  American  lady 
had  ever  enjoyed. 

Her  trip  extended  to  Paris,  where  Louis  Philippe 


MRS.    VAN    BUREN.  183 

and  his  queen  received  her  into  the  home  circle  at 
St.  Cloud. 

At  the  opening  of  Congress,  she  was  again  at  her 
post,  and  until  the  close  of  the  administration  made 
the  Executive  Mansion  the  centre  of  social  elegance 
and  gayety. 

Mr.  Van  Buren  was  a  candidate  for  a  second  term, 
and  thought  his  election  certain.  For  the  first  time, 
his  political  insight  was  at  fault. 

The  political  poets  sang,  — 

"Van,  Van,  Van,  you  are  a  used-up  man." 

And  after  all  these  years  of  successful,  vaulting 
ambition,  it  was  even  so. 

It  was  customary  for  the  city  authorities  to  pass  a 
vote  of  thanks  to  the  retiring  President  for  the  in 
terest  he  had  taken  in  the  prosperity  of  the  national 
metropolis.  The  aldermen  and  common  council  fol 
lowed  the  usual  custom,  but  Mr.  Van  Buren,  always 
courteous  in  manner  to  his  opponents,  had  neverthe 
less  excluded  these  from  the  hospitalities  of  the 
Executive  Mansion,  and  thus  incurred  the  indignation 
of  the  mayor,  who  vetoed  the  complimentary  resolu 
tions  and  in  his  message  gave  his  reasons  for  this 
marked  slight,  which  greatly  annoyed  the  President. 

Gracefully  had  he  risen  to  power,  but  he  took  very 
good  care  to  have  the  White  House  ready  for  his 
successor,  and  did  not  await  his  arrival  or  grace  his 
triumph. 


184  MRS.     VAN    BUREN. 

He  retired  to  Lindenwalcl,  his  estate  in  the  village 
where  he  was  born,  and  had  wooed  and  won  his  wife. 

Twice,  was  he  again  the  candidate  for  the  office  of 
chief  magistrate,  but  the  people  repudiated  the  man 
under  whose  administration  they  had  suffered  such 
bitter  evils. 

At  the  breaking  out  of  the  Civil  War,  Mr.  Van 
Buren  had  turned  fourscore,  but  his  heart  beat  as 
strong  for  his  country  and  the  Union  as  in  the  days 
when  General  Jackson  stamped  upon  secession  and 
threatened  to  seize  every  senator  from  South  Caro 
lina  upon  the  charge  of  treason.  Before  the  strife 
was  ended,  he  had  finished  the  battle  of  life,  and 
rested  by  the  side  of  the  wife  who  had  lain  for 
nearly  half  a  century  among  the  "  dusty  dead  "  in 
the  airy  cemetery  of  Kinderhook,  but  had  never  lost 
her  place  in  the  heart  of  her  husband. 


MRS.    HARRISON. 

Miss  ANNA  SYMMES,  the  daughter  of  a  colonel 
in  the  Continental  army,  was  born  near  Morristown, 
New  Jersey,  at  the  beginning  of  the  war  of  the 
Revolution.  Her  birth  was  soon  followed  by  the 
death  of  her  mother. 

When  the  state  became  the  battle-ground  of  the 
two  armies,  Colonel  Symmes  was  anxious  for  the 
safety  of  his  little  motherless  daughter,  and  desired 
to  place. her  with  her  mother's  mother  on  Long  Is 
land.  Long  Island  was  held  by  the  British,  —  a 
disloyal  citizen  could  not  pass  their  lines,  and  were 
an  American  officer  caught  there,  the  penalty  would 
be  death.  He  conceived  the  bold  design  of  passing 
in  the  disguise  of  a  British  uniform.  It  was  a 
perilous  undertaking,  but  by  pluck  and  boldness  he 
made  it  a  success. 

The  little  girl,  then  four  years  old,  never  forgot 
the  incidents  of  that  journey.  She  was  a  sedate, 
quiet  child,  and  the  training  of  her  grandmother,  a 
convert  and  follower  of  Whitfield,  made  her  still 
more  so. 

In  after  years,  when  she  presided  as  governor's 
lady,  when  a  home  in  the  White  House  loomed 

185 


1 86  MRS.    HARRISON. 

before  her,  she  would  often  say  :  "  From  my  earliest 
childhood,  the  frivolous  amusements  of  youth  had 
no  charm  for  me.  If  ever  constrained  to  attend 
places  of  fashionable  amusement,  it  was  to  gratify 
others,  not  myself." 

By  her  grandmother  she  was  taught  industry, 
order,  truthfulness,  prudence  and  economy,  but  with 
out  teaching,  she  was  imbued  with  a  love  of  God 
and  the  desire  to  be  a  Christian,  from  the  example  of 
that  grandmother's  daily  life. 

Her  years  had  doubled,  and  American  Independ 
ence  was  recognized  by  England,  before  she  again 
met  her  father,  who  had  fought  all  through  the  war, 
and  bore  an  honored  part.  Arranging  for  his  child 
to  have  the  best  instruction  New  York  City  afforded, 
he  left  her  in  the  care  of  her  grandparents  until  she 
grew  to  womanhood. 

In  1793,  Colonel  Symmes  led  a  company  of 
pioneers  from  New  Jersey  to  the  banks  of  the  Ohio, 
to  build  a  town  and  live  a  frontier  life.  A  year  later 
he  came  to  New  York,  married  the  daughter  of 
Governor  Livingston,  and  in  the  early  autumn  took 
his  bride  and  daughter,  just  turned  eighteen,  to 
make  a  home  in  the  new  settlement.  It  was  a  long 
and  dangerous  journey,  and  the  New  Year  had  come 
before  it  was  brought  to  a  close. 

Miss  Anna  had  a  married  sister  in  Kentucky, 
upon  whom  she  made  frequent  visits.  Among  her 


MRS.    HARRISON.  l8/ 

sister's  guests  was  a  young  captain  in  the  United 
States  army,  who  was  at  once  attracted  by  the 
pretty  face  and  modest,  gentle  manners  of  the  young 
girl.  It  is  evident  that  the  attraction  was  mutual, 
for  in  November  of  this  same  year  the  pair  were 
married  in  her  father's  house. 

The  young  captain  was  the  son  of  Benjamin 
Harrison,  a  Virginia  grandee,  an  intimate  friend  of 
Washington,  who  travelled  with  him  to  Philadelphia 
after  the  news  of  Concord  and  Lexington,  a  signer 
of  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  a  member  of 
the  first  Continental  Congress,  and  Governor  of  the 
State.  He  was  a  man  of  immense  size,  great 
strength,  and  full  of  fun. 

At  the  time  of  the  signing  of  the  Declaration  of 
Independence,  there  was,  as  a  rule,  great  solemnity. 
Each  man  felt  as  he  signed  the  document  that  his 
name  was  a  gage  thrown  down  to  the  King  of 
England,  which  he  must  make  good,  or  by  a  halter 
die  the  death  of  a  traitor.  Franklin  could  joke, 
and  allay  the  excitement  and  chagrin  of  Jefferson, 
as  the  paper  he  had  drawn  up  was  sifted,  praised, 
condemned,  cut  down,  and  finally  signed. 

When  Charles  Carroll  signed,  one  said  :  "  You  are 
safe,  Carroll,  there  are  so  many  of  that  name."  But 
he  promptly  turned  back  and  added  "  of  Carrollton," 
which  would  stamp  him,  if  the  cause  were  lost,  and 
he  was  a  man  of  immense  fortune. 


1 88  MRS.    HARRISON. 

Harrison  often  brought  a  smile  to  the  solemn- 
faced  members.  When  Elbridge  Gerry,  the  slightest 
among  them,  almost  overcome  by  the  magnitude  of 
the  deed  he  was  about  to  do,  took  pen  in  hand,  he 
said  :  "  Gerry,  when  the  hanging  comes,  I  shall  have 
the  advantage,  you'll  kick  in  the  air  half  an  hour 
after  it  is  all  over  with  me." 

Most  of  the  members  signed  on  the  Fourth,  and 
the  Declaration  was  proclaimed  at  the  State  House 
in  Philadelphia,  amid  loud  acclamations,  and  notes 
of  Liberty  pealed  from  the  venerable  bell  on  In 
dependence  Hall. 

At  the  setting  of  the  sun,  the  equestrian  statue 
of  George  the  Third  was  laid  prostrate  on  the 
ground,  and  the  lead  of  which  it  was  made  run  into 
bullets  to  shoot  down  His  Majesty's  troops.  The 
work  which  England  called  treason  was  con 
summated. 

Harrison  and  Hancock  were  both  candidates  for 
Speaker.  The  Virginian  gracefully  gave  way  to  the 
Bay  State  patriot,  and,  as  Hancock  modestly  held 
back,  took  him  in  his  arms,  carried  him  across  the 
hall  and  placed  him  in  the  chair,  amid  the  laughter 
of  the  members,  then  turning  said  :  "  Gentlemen, 
we  will  show  Mother  Britain  how  little  we  care  for 
her  by  making  a  Massachusetts  man  our  President, 
whom  she  has  excluded  from  pardon  by  a  public 
proclamation." 


MRS.    HARRISON.  189 

The  son  of  this  patriot,  William  Henry  Harrison, 
was  brought  up  amid  wealth  and  social  culture,  and 
had  every  advantage  of  education  that  the  colonies 
afforded.  His  father  died  while  he  was  yet  a  lad, 
and  Robert  Morris,  the  celebrated  financier,  was  his 
guardian,  who  placed  him  with  the  famous  Dr.  Rush 
of  Philadelphia,  for  the  study  of  medicine. 

When  he  was  nineteen,  the  frightful  ravages  upon 
our  northwestern  frontier  by  the  Indians  fired  the 
heart  of  the  boy  with  military  ardor.  Contrary  to 
the  advice  of  instructor  and  guardian,  he  asked  a 
commission  of  Washington,  then  President  of  the 
United  States,  who  gave  him  his  hearty  approval 
and  the  rank  of  an  ensign. 

His  first  special  duty  was  to  take  some  pack- 
horses  through  forty  miles  of  wilderness.  An  old 
frontier  man  said  :  "  I  would  as  soon  have  thought 
of  putting  my  wife  into  the  service  as  this  boy  ;  but 
I  have  been  out  with  him  and  find  those  smooth 
cheeks  are  on  a  wise  head,  and  that  slight  frame  is 
almost  as  tough  as  my  own  weatherbeaten  carcass." 
He  rose  to  the  rank  of  lieutenant  and  served  under 
Wayne,  called  "  Mad  Anthony,"  for  his  reckless 
daring.  Harrison,  for  his  bravery  and  prowess,  was 
made  captain,  and  placed  in  command  of  Fort  Wash 
ington.  It  was  at  this  time,  at  the  age  of  twenty- 
two,  that  he  married  Miss  Anna  Symmes.  Two 
years  later  he  resigned  his  command,  and  was  ap- 


MRS.    HARRISON. 

pointed  lieutenant-governor  of  the  Northwest  Terri 
tory.  When  the  territory  was  entitled  to  a  delegate 
to  Congress,  he  was  chosen.  His  wife  accompanied 
him  to  Washington,  and  it  was  what  she  called  her 
"bridal  trip."  She  spent  most  of  her  time  in  visit 
ing  her  husband's  relatives  in  Virginia. 

When  but  twenty-seven,  Harrison  was  appointed 
by  John  Adams  Governor  of  the  Northwest  Terri 
tory  ;  re-appointed  twice  by  Jefferson,  and  once  by 
Madison,  ruling  for  twelve  years  a  larger  domain 
than  almost  any  sovereign  in  the  world.  He  was 
what  the  poet  would  have  called  "  the  noblest  work 
of  God,"  an  honest  man.  Never  would  he  hold  an 
acre  of  land  by  a  title  coming  from  himself. 

A  foreigner  once  accused  him  of  defrauding  the 
Indians.  He  demanded  an  investigation  in  a  court 
of  justice,  was  acquitted,  and  awarded  four  thousand 
dollars,  damages.  One  third  he  gave  to  the  orphans 
of  soldiers,  and  the  remainder  he  returned  to  his 
accuser. 

A  landed  proprietor  offered  him  half  the  land 
which  now  comprises  St.  Louis,  if  he  would  assist 
in  building  up  the  place.  He  refused,  lest  it  might 
be  said  that  he  used  his  official  station  to  promote 
his  private  interests. 

At  a  land  sale  the  title  was  not  valid  on  account 
of  some  defective  proceedings  of  the  court,  and  the 
property,  soon  worth  millions,  reverted  to  his  wife. 


MRS.    HARRISON.  IQI 

With  him  honesty  and  justice  were  higher  than  law, 
and  he  would  have  none  of  it. 

The  Northwest  was  full  of  Indians,  whom  our 
sweet  mother,  England,  burning  with  hatred,  was 
inciting  by  gifts  of  arms  to  raise  the  tomahawk 
against  the  children  whom  she  had  driven  from  her 
control.  Among  the  warriors  were  two  most  extra 
ordinary  men  of  the  class  which  has  thrown  such  a 
halo  of  romance  around  the  aborigines  of  North 
America. 

Tecumseh  and  Elks-tawa  were  twins ;  the  first 
was  truthful,  generous,  hospitable,  handsome  in 
features,  of  a  symmetrical,  powerful  frame,  digni 
fied  and  defiant,  with  the  air  of  a  king,  and  withal 
the  bravest  of  his  tribe  ;  the  other,  a  prophet  and 
orator,  with  an  eloquence  so  vivid,  that  he  could 
sway  the  hearts  of  all  the  tribes  on  the  war-path. 

When  Tecumseh  left  camp  to  rouse  the  Southern 
Indians  to  unite  with  the  Northern,  Harrison  sur 
prised  the  prophet,  and  by  an  overwhelming  victory, 
won  the  title  of  Tippecanoe,  and  secured  safety  to 
the  settlers  on  the  banks  of  the  Ohio. 

He  removed  his  own  family  to  Cincinnati,  but  was 
directly  after  appointed  by  Madison,  commander-in- 
chief  of  the  Northwestern  army,  with  power  almost 
absolute. 

Mrs.  Harrison  was  to  be  left  alone  for  an  uncer 
tain  period  with  a  family  of  ten  young  children. 


1 92  MRS.    HARRISON. 

Not  only  was  there  no  repining,  nor  shrinking  from 
responsibility,  but  a  gathering  in  of  the  children  of 
friends  and  neighbors,  several  of  whom  were  regular 
inmates  of  her  large  family,  that  they  might  have 
the  benefit  of  the  private  tutor  whom  she  always 
employed. 

Hull  had  made  his  inglorious  surrender  at  Detroit 
when  Harrison  received  his  appointment ;  troops 
were  to  be  raised  and  disciplined.  Like  Jackson, 
he  was  troubled  with  short  enlistments  and  men 
clamoring  to  go  home,  but  we  hear  of  no  court- 
martial  or  military  executions.  He  retook  Detroit, 
and  somewhat  redeemed  the  honor  of  the  American 
arms  at  the  North. 

Not  harmonizing  with  the  Secretary  of  War,  he 
resigned,  bought  the  farm  at  North  Bend,  and  was 
at  once  chosen  Representative  to  Congress.  Here 
he  was  accused  of  corruption  ;  he  demanded  a  thor 
ough  investigation,  and  was  not  only  acquitted,  but 
received  the  thanks  of  Congress  and  a  gold  medal. 

John  Quincy  Adams,  at  the  close  of  his  adminis 
tration,  appointed  him  minister  to  the  Republic  of 
Columbia.  He  had  no  sooner  arrived  there  than  he 
was  recalled  by  Jackson,  who  could  never  forget,  that 
when  a  vote  of  censure  against  himself  was  before 
Congress,  Harrison  voted  in  its  favor,  though  he 
made  a  stirring  speech  in .  which  he  awarded  full 
glory  and  honor  to  the  hero  of  New  Orleans.  On 


MRS.    HARRISON,  IQ3 

his  return,  he  settled  at  his  farm  at  North  Bend, 
accepting  the  office  of  clerk  of  the  court  of  Hamilton 
County,  to  eke  out  an  income  sufficient  for  the  needs 
of  his  numerous  family. 

In  1836,  he  was  candidate  for  the  presidency  in 
opposition  to  Mr.  Van  Buren.  It  was  a  great  relief 
to  Mrs.  Harrison  that  he  was  not  elected.  At  no 
time  caring  to  stand  in  the  world's  high  places,  she 
cared  less  now,  as  she  was  weighted  with  sorrow. 
During  the  life  at  North  Bend  she  lost  an  infant, 
seven  children,  grown  and  settled  in  life,  and  ten 
grandchildren.  As  blow  after  blow  fell,  she  would 
repeat  her  favorite  text,  "  Be  still,  and  know  that  I 
am  God." 

In  these  days,  we  should  say  that  North  Bend  was 
an  unhealthy  locality,  or  that  the  drainage  was  bad,  and 
refrain  from  thinking  that  God  had  laid  a  heavy  hand 
upon  them.  A  second  time  General  Harrison  was 
the  candidate  in  opposition  to  Mr.  Van  Buren. 
Never  was  there  a  more  spirited  or  exciting  cam 
paign. 

He,  who  was  born,  cradled,  and  reared  among  the 
aristocrats  of  the  land  was  taunted  with  having  lived 
in  a  ''log-cabin"  and  drinking  "  hard  cider."  They 
became  the  "shibboleth  of  his  party,  and  were  in  every 
town  and  village  drawn  about  with  torchlight  proces 
sions,  while  people  cheered  and  sang,  "  Tippecanoe 
and  Tyler,  too." 


IQ4  MRS-    HARRISON. 

A  favorite  song  was  one  which  began  with  the  fol 
lowing  verse,  — 

"  Can  grateful  freemen  slight  his  claims, 

Who  bravely  did  defend 
Their  lives  and  fortunes  on  the  Thames, 

The  Farmer  of  North  Bend  ? 

CHORUS  :    The  Farmer  of  North  Bend,  my  boys, 

The  Farmer  of  North  Bend, 
We'll  give  a  right  good  hearty  vote 
To  the  Farmer  of  North  Bend." 

The  victory  was  won,  but  how  barren  the  result ; 
so  little  of  Tippecanoe  and  "too  "  much  of  Tyler. 

General  Harrison  was  a  well-bred,  educated  man  ; 
his  conversation,  letters,  and  speeches  were  always 
well  spiced  with  classical  allusions,  but  he  had  no 
claim  to  intellectual  greatness. 

The  public  clamored  only  for  honesty,  fair  dealing, 
and  a  return  to  the  prosperity  of  the  days  when 
there  had  been  a  United  States  bank,  —  money  had 
been  plenty  and  provisions  cheap. 

The  dignified  and  seemly  manner  with  which  the 
Executive  Mansion  had  been  maintained  was  only  a 
cause  of  irritation.  In  the  campaign,  a  Pennsylva- 
nian  upon  the  floor  of  Congress  had  detailed  and 
dwelt  upon  the  elegance  of  its  furniture,  as  if  it  were 
a  cause  for  reproach,  —  had  compared  it  with  a  log- 
cabin,  as  if  it  were  a  merit  to  live  in  one  when  one 
could  command  something  better;  the  new  candidate 
was  held  up  as  another  Cincinnatus,  which  so  tickled 


MRS.    HARRISON.  1 95 

his  classical  fancy  that  he  likened  his  journey  to  the 
national  capital  to  the  return  of  Cicero  to  Rome, 
amid  the  cheers  and  plaudits  of  Cato  and  the  stern 
old  Romans. 

His  inaugural,  written  in  a  large  bold  hand, 
covered  many  sheets  of  foolscap.  He  submitted  it 
to  Webster  for  criticism.  Had  the  great  man  dif 
fered  with  him  upon  any  of  the  vital  topics  at  issue, 
he  might  have  given  an  attentive  ear,  but  when  he 
proposed  not  only  to  condense  the  document,  but  to 
rob  it  of  some  of  its  classical  allusions,  Harrison 
thought  the  statesman  little  knew  what  language 
was  becoming  for  an  old  Roman  to  use,  and  the 
address  was  given  intact. 

His  entrance  into  the  national  capital  was  upon  a 
cold  February  day,  when  the  air  was  filled  with  rain 
and  sleet.  Had  he  sensibly  followed  the  old  maxim  : 
"  When  you  are  among  the  Romans,  do  as  the 
Romans  do,"  he  would  have  taken  a  cab  and  ridden 
comfortably  to  his  hotel,  but  that  would  not  comport 
with  the  ways  of  men  centuries  dead,  in  a  land  thou 
sands  of  miles  removed. 

He  walked  from  the  station,  his  head  bared  to  the 
blast,  front  lock  a  la  Napoleon,  bowing  acknowledg 
ments  for  the  cheers  of  the  well-wrapped,  umbrella- 
protected  citizens  who  thronged  the  way. 

Chagrined  at  being  opposed  by  his  native  state, 
and  taunted  with  the  name  of  Abolitionist,  before 


MRS.    HARRISON. 

the  mantle  of  power  descended  upon  him,  he  made  a 
visit  to  Richmond,  made  speeches  and  assured  the 
citizens  of  his  devotion  to  their  section  and  its  priv 
ileges. 

A  piercing  northeast  wind  blew  on  the  fourth  of 
March,  1841,  and  the  sun  was  darkened  by  clouds. 
Party  friends  of  the  general  had  presented  a  carriage 
for  the  occasion,  but  now  as  he  was  to  embody  the 
majesty  of  the  United  States,  he  would  ride  as  did 
the  Roman  Emperors  along  the  Appian  Way. 

Mr.  Van  Buren,  doubly  piqued  by  the  slight  of  the 
civil  authorities,  declined  to  enact  the  part  of  con 
quered  hero  in  the  pageantry. 

General  Harrison,  without  overcoat,  mounted  on  a 
spirited  white  charger,  surrounded  by  a  staff  of 
mounted  marshals,  rode,  hat  in  hand,  bowing 
acknowledgments  to  the  enthusiastic  crowd,  who 
cheered  themselves  hoarse.  He  was  followed  by  a 
brilliant  procession  ;  the  students  of  the  Jesuit 
College  at  Georgetown,  appeared  in  their  uniform, 
carrying  a  beautiful  banner  and  headed  by  their 
faculty.  Mechanics,  representing  their  trades,  came 
from  all  parts  of  the  Union.  Tippecanoe  Clubs 
rolled  their  log  cabins,  surmounted  with  coons  and 
freighted  with  hard  cider. 

The  Senate  Chamber  had  never  presented  a  more 
brilliant  spectacle.  The  diplomatic  corps  were 
covered  with  gold  and  silver  embroidery,  with  all 


MRS.    HARRISON.  IQ/ 

their  orders  blazing  on  their  breasts.  The  army  and 
navy  officers  were  in  full  uniform,  the  Justices  of  the 
Supreme  Court  in  their  black  silk  robes,  and  the  scene 
was  graced  by  the  highest  dignitaries  of  the  land. 

A  deafening  shout  went  up,  which  proclaimed  the 
arrival  of  General  Harrison,  the  hero  of  the  day. 

He  stepped  to  the  front  of  the  platform,  delivered 
his  inaugural  in  clear,  ringing  tones.  His  hearers, 
muffled  and  wrapped,  nearly  perished  from  the  icy 
blasts,  while  he  stood  bareheaded,  without  overcoat 
or  gloves. 

Mr.  Monroe  once  said,  that  "a  little  flattery  would 
carry  one  through  a  great  deal  of  fatigue,"  and 
perhaps  it  has  as  potent  an  effect  in  warding  off  the 
cold  ;  there  was  no  lack  of  shouts  and  cheers  as  the 
President  handled  each  favorite  topic.  The  press 
commented  on  the  message  rather  adversely,  called 
it  "vague  and  diffuse,"  still  the  party  hoped  for  the 
best. 

Benumbed  and  half-frozen  as  he  was,  the  president 
waived  away  the  carriage  offered  him  and  rode  upon 
his  charger  as  he  came.  On  reaching  the  Executive 
Mansion  he  held  a  reception,  and  for  three  hours 
he  was  constantly  shaking  hands  with  the  crowds, 
that  thronged  the  house. 

The  day  wound  up  with  three  inaugural  balls,  and 
the  president  favored  each  with  a  visit,  accompanied 
by  his  daughter-in-law,  who  for  the  present  was  to 


MRS.    HARRISON. 

preside  over  his  household.  The  delicacy  of  Mrs. 
Harrison's  health  forbade  her  travelling  until  the 
season  was  more  advanced. 

According  to  all  the  laws  of  self-preservation, 
which  the  Chief  Magistrate  had  defied,  he  ought 
to  have  been  seized  with  his  mortal  illness  then, 
instead  of  a  month  later. 

Office-seekers  worried  and  wore  him  down  ;  he 
had  differences  with  the  great  men  of  his  party,  who 
rather  sought  to  control  him  ;  once  he  turned 
sharply  on  Clay  and  said :  "  Mr.  Clay,  you  forget 
that  I  am  President ; "  he  rarely  retired  before  one 
o'clock  in  the  morning  and  as  had  been  his  habit,  rose 
early.  These  things  began  to  tell  upon  the  frame 
that  had  failed  to  succumb  upon  the  day  of  the 
inauguration.  Probably  an  overcoat  did  not  form  a 
part  of  his  wardrobe,  as  he  was  never  known  to 
wear  one.  In  one  of  his  early  walks  to  market,  he 
was  caught  in  a  shower,  and  refused  on  his  return, 
to  change  his  wet  clothes.  This  time,  the  disease, 
pneumonia,  that  his  imprudence  had  invited,  settled 
upon  him. 

The  nature  of  his  worries  appeared  in  his  delirium. 
At  one  time  he  said,  "  My  dear  madam,  I  did  not 
direct  that  your  husband  should  be  turned  out.  I 
did  not  know  it.  I  tried  to  prevent  it."  At  an 
other:  "It  is  wrong  —  I  won't  consent  — 'tis  un 
just."  Again:  "These  applications,  —  will  they 


MRS.    HARRISON.  IQ9 

never  cease  ? "  His  honesty  appeared  in  his  last 
words,  when  he  said,  as  if  addressing  his  successor, 
"Sir!  I  wish  you  to  understand  the  true  principles 
of  the  government.  I  wish  them  carried  out,  I  ask 
nothing  more." 

On  the  fourth  of  April,  there  was  death  in  the 
White  House,  where  "never  before  had  trod  his 
skeleton  foot."  The  hero  of  Tippecanoe  "from  the 
round  at  the  top  had  stepped  to  the  sky."  The 
hosts,  who  had  come  before  to  witness  his  triumph, 
came  again  to  behold  the  funeral  pomp.  Public  and 
private  buildings  were  draped  in  black,  minute-guns 
were  fired,  flags  everywhere  at  half-mast,  and  all 
places  of  business  closed. 

The  services  were  held  in  the  Executive  Mansion. 
The  casket  lay  in  the  East  Room,  where  one  little 
month  before  he  had  stood  through  the  long  levee. 

It  was  covered  with  black  velvet,  trimmed  with 
gold  lace,  and  over  it  was  thrown  a  velvet  pail  with 
a  deep,  golden  fringe.  On  this  lay  the  sword  of 
justice  and  the  sword  of  state,  surmounted  by  the 
scroll  of  the  Constitution,  bound  together  by  a 
funeral  wreath  of  yew  and  cypress.  Around  the 
casket  were  grouped  in  a  circle,  the  new  President, 
Mr.  Tyler,  the  ex-President,  John  Quincy  Adams, 
and  the  members  of  the  cabinet.  In  the  next 
circle  were  the  diplomatic  corps  in  their  rich  court 
suits,  members  of  Congress,  and  the  relatives  of 
the  dead  president. 


2OO  MRS.    HARRISON. 

An  outer  circle  was  made  up  of  a  vast  assemblage 
of  friends.  When  the  clergyman  began  ;  "  I  am 
the  resurrection  and  the  life,"  the  entire  company 
rose  and  joined  in  the  burial  service  of  the  Episco 
pal  church. 

The  funeral  car  was  drawn  by  six  white  horses, 
each  having  at  his  head  a  black  groom  dressed  in 
.white,  with  white  turban  and  sash.  Outside  of  the 
grooms  walked  the  pall-bearers,  dressed  in  black, 
with  black  scarfs. 

The  procession  with  its  military  escort,  was  two 
miles  in  length  and  eclipsed  the  inauguration  pa 
geant  which  had  preceded  it.  The  remains  were 
placed  in  a  tomb  in  the  Congressional  Burying 
Ground,  and  the  military  fired  three  volleys  over  it. 

Mrs.  Harrison  was  busy  with  preparations  for  her 
journey,  with  her  husband's  letter  before  her,  telling 
of  the  inaugural  balls  and  the  high  honors  heaped 
upon  him,  when  a  messenger  came  with  the  fatal 
news. 

For  once  the  brave,  Christian  woman  was  stricken 
to  the  earth.  Dead !  She  could  not  believe  it. 

In  time,  not  then,  she  could  repeat  the  text  which 
had  ever  been  her  help,  and  resigned  cheerfulness 
returned. 

For  fourteen  years  she  remained  at  the  farm  at 
North  Bend,  but  as  extreme  old  age  crept  on,  she 
was  persuaded  to  go  to  the  house  of  her  son,  five 


MRS.    HARRISON.  2OI 

miles  away,  where  she  died  in  her  eighty-ninth  year. 
Her  funeral  sermon  was  preached  by  Dr.  Bushnell 
from  her  favorite  text,  at  her  own  request.  Her 
remains  were  taken  to  North  Bend,  and  laid  beside 
her  husband's  on  the  banks  of  the  Ohio. 

Her  grandson,  Benjamin  Harrison,  is  the  present 
Republican  candidate  for  the  Presidency. 


MRS.    LETITIA     CHRISTIAN    TYLER.— 
MRS.  JULIA   GARDINER  TYLER. 

Miss  LETITIA  CHRISTIAN,  belonging  to  one  of  the 
oldest  and  best  families,  was  called  the  belle  of  East 
ern  Virginia,  when  she  had  only  turned  her  sixteenth 
year.  Modest,  retiring,  cultivated,  and  beautiful,  the 
fairest  among  a  bevy  of  fair  sisters,  she  was  sought 
by  many  suitors,  among  whom  was  John  Tyler,  a  boy 
of  seventeen,  son  of  the  governor  of  the  state. 

On  his  part,  it  was  love  at  first  sight ;  and  so  ar 
dent  was  his  wooing  that  he  soon  distanced  all  his 
rivals.  Boy  and  girl  as  they  were,  they  plighted 
their  troth.  It  was  his  pride  that  he  had  no  fortune 
to  offer,  de^aring  that  the  thought  of  her  being  in 
fluenced  by  prudential  motives  would  have  eternally 
tortured  him. 

So  digniied  was  the  reserve  of  this  belle  and 
beauty,  that  she  would  never  give  permission  to  her 
lover  to  address  her  by  letter,  though  he  penned  her 
many  a  love  sonnet. 

The  engagement  lasted  more, than  five  years,  and 
it  was  only  three  'months  before  marriage  that  he 
dared  break  bounds  and  send  his  first  love  letter,  re- 


'     MRS.   LET1TIA    CHRISTIAN    TYLER.  2O3 

markable  for  its  lofty  delicacy.  It  is  still  carefully 
preserved  in  the  family.  He  often  told  his  children 
that  he  "  never  presumed  to  kiss  her  hand  at  parting 
until  within  three  weeks  of  the  wedding  day." 

On  his  twenty-third  birthday,  when  Miss  Letitia 
was  twenty-two,  he  led  her  to  the  altar,  and  thus  se 
cured  to  himself  the  support  of  the  influential  family 
to  which  she  belonged.  As  soon  as  the  festivities 
were  over,  he  took  his  bride  to  Greenway,  an  estate 
belonging  to  his  father. 

She  shrank  from  public  notice,  and  enjoyed  noth 
ing  so  much  as  her  own  home.  When  her  husband 
became  governor  of  the  state,  she  is  said  to  have 
presided  with  ease,  dignity,  and  grace.  Only  one 
season  could  she  be  persuaded  to  spend  amid  the 
social  gayeties  of  Washington,  during  the  five  terms 
that  he  served  as  representative  and  senator.  But 
once  could  he  prevail  on  her  to  go  among  the  fash 
ionable  watering  places  at  the  North.  She  pre 
ferred  the  quiet,  slow  ways  of  the  mountain  resorts 
of  her  native  state  ;  indeed,  her  nursery  left  her 
little  leisure  for  society.  She  was  the  mother  of 
nine  children,  two  of  whom  died  in  infancy. 

As  years  went  by  she  grew  frail  and  delicate.  A 
new  daughter,  the  bride  of  her  eldest  son,  described 
her  in  her  declining  health,  as  "  bearing  the  marks  of 
her  early  beauty,  —  a  skin  as  soft  and  smooth  as  a 
baby's,  sweet,  loving  black  eyes,  features  delicately 


2O4  MRS.   LETITIA    CHRISTIAN    TYLER. 

moulded,  perfect  hands  and  feet,  gentle  and  graceful 
in  her  movements,  with  a  peculiar  air  of  refinement, 
a  nature  entirely  unselfish,  all  her  thoughts  and  af 
fection  given  to  her  husband  and  children." 

In  her  early  married  life,  when  there  were  times 
of  pecuniary  difficulties,  her  one  thought  had  been  to 
save  her  husband  from  care  and  expense,  and  that  his 
honest  independence  was  preserved  was  chiefly  owing 
to  her. 

In  1839,  sne  had  a  stroke  of  paralysis,  from  which 
she  never  fully  rallied.  Two  years  later,  Harrison's 
untimely  death  placed  her  husband  at  the  head  of 
the  nation.  She  went  to  the  White  House  with  a 
heavy  heart.  She  had  been  brought  near  and  faced 
the  unseen  world,  and  realized  that  she  was  still 
within  its  shadow.  Fashion,  display,  and  the  per 
sonal  triumph  of  holding  the  highest  place,  could 
have  for  her  no  charm.  She  received  few  visitors 
and  paid  no  visits.  The  social  duties  of  her  position 
she  delegated  to  her  daughter-in-law,  Mrs.  Robert 
Tyler,  until  her  own  daughter,  Letitia,  Mrs.  Semple, 
was  able  to  assume  the  place. 

Mrs.  Robert  Tyler  was  a  very  elegant  and  accom 
plished  woman,  daughter  of  Thomas  Apthorpe  Cooper, 
the  tragedian.  Before  her  marriage,  she  assisted 
him  in  Virginius,  taking  the  part  of  Virginia,  more 
fiLom  filial  love  than  from  any  desire  for  the  stage. 
In  his  old  age,  she  had  the  satisfaction  of  procuring 


MRS.   LETITIA    CHRISTIAN    TYLER.  2O5 

for  him  a  position  in  the  New  York  Custom  House, 
and  later,  a  better  one  at  the  Arsenal  in  Philadelphia. 

The  Tylers  were  the  first  to  introduce  music  in  the 
presidential  grounds. 

A  gay  marriage  was  celebrated  in  the  Executive 
Mansion,  fast  becoming  historic,  between  Miss  Eliza 
beth,  third  daughter  of  the  family,  and  Mr.  William 
Waller.  It  was  intended,  on  the  mother's  account, 
that  it  should  be  very  private  ;  but  in  their  high  sta 
tion  it  could  not  well  be  managed.  Mrs.  Madison, 
the  families  of  the  members  of  the  cabinet,  and  those 
of  the  foreign  ministers,  with  a  host  of  relatives  and 
friends,  made  up  a  brilliant  assemblage.  It  was  the 
first  time  that  Mrs.  Tyler  ever  appeared  in  general 
society  at  the  White  House.  It  may  have  been  lov 
ing  partiality  that  gave  the  verdict,  but  the  family 
decided  that  she  was  more  attractive  in  looks  and 
bearing  than  any  woman  present. 

Once  again  she  was  present,  at  the  fancy  ball  given 
by  her  three-year-old,  fairy-dressed  granddaughter, 
when  every  state  in  the  Union  had  its  baby  repre 
sentative.  Mrs.  Madison,  the  distinguished  guest 
wherever  she  went,  sat  opposite  the  little  hostess,  — 
the  only  adult  guest  seated.  No  servants  were  pres 
ent,  but  lady  guests  served,  and  distributed  the 
Christmas  gifts. 

Early  in  the  autumn  of  the  second  year  of  Tyler's 
reign,  Mrs.  Tyler  was  again  stricken  with  paralysis, 


2O6  MRS.  LETITIA    CHRISTIAN    TYLER. 

and  in  a  few  hours  "  slept  the  sleep  that  knows  no 
waking."  The  funeral  service,  the  second  in  the 
White  House,  was  according  to  the  rites  of  the  Epis 
copal  church,  of  which  she  was  a  member;  a  touch 
ing  scene  was  enacted  outside  the  mansion,  by  the 
gathering  of  a  crowd  of  her  beneficiaries,  sobbing, 
wringing  their  hands,  and  every  now  and  then  crying 
out,  "  Oh,  the  poor  have  lost  a  friend."  After  the 
service,  her  husband  bore  her  home  to  Virginia. 
The  Executive  Mansion,  never  gay  under  the  Tylers, 
was  now  shrouded  in  mourning. 

The  administration  was  very  unpopular,  so  much 
so  that  Congress  would  make  no  appropriation  for 
furnishing  the  house,  nor  for  any  of  the  incidental 
expenses  which  its  occupancy  entailed.  A  son  of 
the  President  was  his  private  secretary,  but  Con 
gress  would  grant  no  salary. 

By  a  political  compromise,  Tyler's  name  had  been 
put  on  the  Whig  ticket  with  Harrison's,  to  secure 
Southern  votes.  Unexpectedly  and  unfortunately 
for  himself  and  the  nation,  he  became  Chief  Magis 
trate.  At  the  time  of  the  inauguration,  he  had 
taken  umbrage  at  the  course  of  affairs  and  had 
retired  to  his  home  in  Virginia,  where  he  was 
notified  of  the  event  which  exalted  him. 

The  cabinet,  by  the  advice  of  John  Quincy  Adams, 
decided  that  he  should  be  officially  styled,  "Vice- 
President  of  the  United  States,  acting  President." 


MRS.   LETITIA    CHRISTIAN    TYLER.  2O7 

Mr.  Tyler  came,  — he  was  to  be  no  regent,  boldly 
signed  himself  "  President  of  the  United  States," 
claimed  all  the  honors  of  his  position,  and  by  com 
mon  consent  the  title  was  admitted  as  legitimate 
At  his  hotel,  he  at  once  took  the  same  oath  that 
other  Presidents  had  taken.  In  June  he  sent  to  the 
extra  session  of  Congress,  which  General  Harrison 
had  convened,  a  message,  so  uncertain  in  its  tone, 
that  it  might  be  twisted  to  mean  anything  which 
future  events  might  make  it  expedient  for  him  to 
carry  out. 

The  whole  elective  campaign  had  turned  on  the 
United  States  Bank,  and  here  was  where  he  was  the 
least  lucid,  was  said  to  have  displayed  the  "  caution 
and  ambiguity  of  a  Talleyrand."  The  Whigs  were 
alarmed.  The  imperious  leader,  Henry  Clay,  antici 
pating  trouble,  exclaimed,  "Tyler  dares  not  resist  : 
I  will  drive  him  before  me." 

The  first  business  of  the  session  was  the  repeal  of 
the  Sub-Treasury  Act,  which  so  elated  the  party, 
that  they  celebrated  it  in  a  procession  and  a  mock 
funeral  for  the  obnoxious  measure,  made  festive  by 
fireworks  and  martial  music. 

The  bill  for  the  Distribution  of  the  Proceeds  of 
the  Public  Lands  among  the  States,  and  the  Bank 
rupt  Law  passed  as  harmoniously,  and  received  the 
President's  signature. 

Then  came  the  grand  crisis.     The  House  and  the 


208  MRS.   LETJTIA    CHRISTIAN    TYLER. 

Senate  passed  the  bill  upon  which  the  Whigs 
thought  the  salvation  of  the  nation  hinged. 

Tyler  slept  over  it  (more  nights  than  were  thought 
necessary),  wept  over  it,  prayed  over  it,  and  then 
vetoed  it.  Words  cannot  describe  the  frenzied  fury 
of  the  party. 

In  the  evening  a  noisy  disorderly  crowd  gathered 
about  the  Executive  Mansion  and  hissed  and  anathe 
matized  the  President.  Within  the  brilliantly 
lighted  house,  sipping  champagne,  sat  the  smiling, 
triumphant  Democrats,  congratulating  him  upon  the 
"courageous  and  patriotic  step"  he  had  taken. 

Shortly  after,  Clay  dramatized  the  visit  before  the 
Senate,  in  a  satire  so  striking  and  artistic  that  the 
victims  themselves  could  but  applaud.  Imitating 
the  style  of  the  different  orators,  the  supposed 
speech  of  each  was  given  with  inimitable  skill,  and 
each  was  prefaced  by  a  word-picture  of  the  person 
of  the  speaker.  Calhoun's  was,  "  tall,  careworn, 
with  fevered  brow,  haggard  cheek  and  eye,  intensely 
gazing,  looking  as  if  he  were  dissecting  the  last  and 
newest  abstraction  which  sprang  from  some  meta 
physician's  brain,  and  muttering  to  himself,  in  half- 
uttered  words,  '  This  is  indeed  a  crisis  ! ' ' 

The  humorous  picture  of  Buchanan,  introducing 
the  Democratic  Senators,  was  so  amusing  to  him 
that  he  answered  it  in  the  same  vein. 

The  press  and  people  of  the  opposition  denounced 


MRS.   LETITIA    CHRISTIAN     TYLER.  2CX) 

the  President  as  a  renegade,  a  name  which  has  ever 
since  clung  to  him  ;  he  retorted  that  he  never  did 
endorse  the  measure. 

As  the  United  States  Bank  never  had  a  second 
birth  under  succeeding  administrations,  and  the 
government  has  not  collapsed,  it  seems  unjust  to 
say  that  he  earned  his  sobriquet  then, —  rather  say 
that  he  was  wiser  than  his  compeers.  National  re 
quirements  never  become  "obsolete  ideas." 

Minor  troubles  rose  in  different  states,  which  had 
to  be  suppressed  by  the  strong  arm  of  the  law, 
backed  by  the  military.  "  Little  Rhody,"  the  pin-head 
state,  raised  the  cry  of  rebellion  and  undertook  to 
carry  matters  with  a  high  hand.  The  cry  of  treason 
was  no  wolf  story.  The  bogus  governor  was  caught, 
tried,  convicted,  and  had  Jackson  been  on  the 
throne,  his  ideal  gallows,  fashioned  after  Raman's, 
would  have  been  set  right  up  ;  as  it  was,  bolts  and 
bars  kept  him  in  duress  until  the  settlement  of  the 
"  Suffrage  Difficulties  "  drew  out  his  fangs,  and  Dorr 
was  pardoned. 

Some  of  the  patroons  of  New  York  refused  to  pay 
their  rent,  even  killed  the  tax-collectors,  tarred  and 
feathered  the  timid  citizens  who  would  rather  pay 
the  nominal  exaction,  under  an  old  Dutch  law,  of  a 
"few  bushels  of  wheat,  three  or  four  fat  fowl,  and  a 
day's  work  with  horses  and  wagon  per  year  "  than 
break  the  law,  resist  the  officers,  and  bring  ruin  upon 


2IO  MRS.    LETITIA    CHRISTIAN    TYLER. 

their    families.      United     States    troops    suppressed 
the  patroons,  and  time  has  suppressed  the  law. 

Mormon  institutions  are  tolerated  by  the  United 
States  government,  but  the  people  of  Illinois  re 
solved  that  if  the  sect  were  to  live  and  grow,  her 
soil  was  not  to  be  polluted  by  the  practice  of  their 
religious  tenets.  Around  the  Nauvoo  settlement, 
mob-law  prevailed  for  three  days,  the  town  was 
shelled,  the  leader  torn  from  the  arm  of  the  authori 
ties,  to  whom  he  had  given  himself  up  for  safety 
and  killed.  The  charter  of  Nauvoo  was  repealed  by 
the  legislature  of  Illinois,  and  the  Mormons  wended 
their  way  to  Council  Bluffs,  and  thence  to  Utah. 

After  Mr.  Tyler's  second  veto  of  Whig  measures, 
all  his  cabinet  resigned,  save  Webster,  who  remained 
for  a  purpose.  Troubles  in  the  northeast  were  thick 
ening  and  war  with  England  threatening. 

Lord  Ashburton  was  in  Washington  with  orders 
to  try  negotiation.  The  preliminaries  had  been 
entered  upon  and  the  Secretary  of  State  was  bent 
upon  concluding  it.  That  it  was  brought  to  a  suc 
cessful  issue  by  his  masterly  diplomacy  was  a  cause 
of  congratulation,  and  he  termed  it  the  greatest 
achievement  of  his  life.  The  old  sore  was  at  last 
healed  —  England  relinquished  the  right  of  impress 
ment,  and  satisfactory  boundaries  were  fixed ;  save 
Oregon,  which  then  was  hardly  thought  worth  own 
ing,  and  the  cod-fisheries,  there  seemed  to  be  noth- 


MRS.   LETITIA    CHRISTIAN    TYLER.  211 

ing  left  for  the  United  States  and  England  to 
wrangle  over. 

In  the  flush  of  success,  Mr.  Webster  said  to  a 
friend  :  "  There  have  been  periods  when  I  could  have 
kindled  a  war,  but,  I  remembered  that  I  was  negotia 
ting  for  a  Christian  country,  with  a  Christian  coun 
try,  and  that  we  were  all  living  in  the  nineteenth 
century  of  the  Christian  era.  My  duty  was  clear  and 
plain." 

When  the  annexation  of  Texas  was  mooted,  Mr. 
Webster  could  not  endorse  the  measure ;  the  Presi 
dent  perceptibly  cooled  towards  him  and  he  resigned 
his  position. 

Tyler's  term  was  drawing  to  a  close.  He  was 
hated  by  one  party  and  despised  by  the  other  ;  his 
personal  clique  was  so  small,  that  it  was  dubbed  by 
Clay  as  the  "  corporal's  guard."  His  sobriquet  may 
now  be  said  to  have  been  fairly  earned.  From  the 
first,  his  ruling  ambition  had  been  to  add  the  "  lone 
star "  state  to  the  Union.  Could  he  succeed,  he 
might  yet  bind  laurels  about  his  brow  and  create 
a  party  in  his  favor.  Every  engine  was  set  in 
motion.  By  request,  General  Jackson  wrote  a  letter 
endorsing  the  measure.  Calhoun  was  offered  the 
place  of  premier,  which  he  accepted,  and  his  state, 
rampant  as  ever,  raised  the  cry  of  "  Texas  or  dis 
union."  The  entire  South  was  for  annexation,  but 
they  repudiated  Tyler. 


212  MRS.  LETITIA    CHRISTIAN    TYLER. 

Calhoun,  by  means  of  his  able  associates,  legislated 
Texas  into  the  Union,  and  the  last  official  act  of  the 
President  was  to  sign  the  bill  for  its  admission. 
The  thing  for  which  he  had  worked  and  schemed 
was  done,  and  his  administration  had  the  honor  or 
dishonor  of  doing  it. 

The  second  winter  after  the  death  of  Mrs.  Tyler, 
Mr.  Gardiner  of  Gardiner's  Island,  in  Long  Island 
Sound,  a  wealthy  and  distinguished  gentleman,  who 
had  been  travelling  over  Europe  with  his  young  and 
accomplished  daughter,  Miss  Julia,  brought  her  to 
share  in  the  social  gayeties  of  Washington.  She 
became  at  once  the  belle  of  the  city. 

The  widowed  President,  worn  down  by  the  un 
happy  state  of  political  affairs,  a  connoisseur  of  beau 
tiful  women,  found  solace  and  relaxation  in  the 
society  of  this  cultivated  girl,  whom  he  soon  began 
to  woo. 

Tragedy  was  so  mixed  with  the  love-making,  that 
the  pair  were  able  to  keep  it  secret  until  it  ended  in 
marriage.  The  President,  the  cabinet,  with  other 
guests,  among  whom  were  Mr.  Gardiner  and  his 
daughter,  were  invited  by  Captain  Stockton  to  a  sail 
upon  the  Potomac,  in  the  war  steamer  "  Princeton  " 
to  witness  the  testing  of  the  "  Peacemaker,"  a  new 
cannon.  Before  the  ceremony,  the  guests  sat  in  the 
cabin,  gayly  jesting  and  sipping  wine.  At  length  the 
captain  said  that  all  was  ready.  The  gentlemen, 


MRS.  JULIA  GARDINER  TYLER.          213 

with  the  exception  of  the  President,  sprang  to  their 
feet  and  went  up  the  companionway.  The  gunner 
stood  at  his  post,  the  company  were  ranged  in  a 
semicircle,  and  the  captain  only  waited  for  the  pres 
ence  of  the  Chief  Magistrate  to  give  the  signal.  A 
second  time,  word  was  sent  to  the  President  that  all 
was  ready,  and  it  was  gently  hinted  that  he  had 
better  go  on  deck. 

Still  he  lingered  ;  what  cared  he  for  a  cannon  or  a 
cannon's  voice  when  he  could  bandy  repartees  with  a 
fair,  fascinating  young  girl,  watch  her  blushes,  and 
strive  to  win  a  love  glance  from  her  bright 
eyes  ? 

The  men  on  deck  tired  of  the  delay  and  grew  res 
tive.  The  captain  gave  the  word,  the  gunner  did  his 
duty ;  something  was  wrong,  somebody  had  blun 
dered,  the  ball  burst  the  cannon.  The  explosion,  the 
shrieks  of  the  wounded,  roused  the  President  from 
the  love  dream  which  probably  saved  his  life.  Two 
members  of  the  cabinet  and  the  father  of  Miss 
Gardiner  lay  among  the  dead  and  dying.  Their 
bodies  were  taken  to  the  Executive  Mansion,  and 
there  the  funeral  services  were  performed. 

Miss  Gardiner  went  to  New  York  with  the  body  of 
her  father.  This  shocking  catastrophe,  which  cast  a 
gloom  over  the  capital,  and  sent  a  thrill  of  horror 
throughout  the  country,  blotted  out  the  remem 
brance  of  the  fascinations  which  Miss  Gardiner  had 


214         MRS-  JULIA  GARDINER  TYLER. 

seemed  to  possess  for  the  widower  of  the  White 
House. 

A  few  months  later,  the  President  announced  that 
urgent  business  required  him  to  make  a  flying  visit 
to  New  York.  At  that  time,  Miss  Gardiner  lived  in 
Lafayette  Place,  between  the  Bowery  and  Broadway, 
a  region  rich  in  golden  memories  to  old  New 
Yorkers,  who  are  to-day  mourning  lest  the  quaint 
and  monastic  street  in  the  heart  of  the  city  must 
give  way  to  the  march  of  improvement.  The  day 
after  his  arrival,  he  took  Miss  Gardiner  to  the 
Church  o£  the  Ascension,  corner  of  Fifth  Avenue 
and  Tenth  Street,  and  in  a  strictly  private  way  made 
her  his  wife. 

It  was  a  social  sensation  which  took  New  York  by 
surprise  ;  they  fired  a  hundred  guns  in  honor  of  the 
event.  The  President's  "  urgent  business "  was 
ended,  and  he  at  once  installed  his  bride  as  mistress 
of  the  Executive  Mansion. 

The  lady  received  guests,  dispensed  hospitality 
with  a  queenly  grace,  and  brought  a  gleam  of  sun 
shine  upon  the  Tyler  administration.  The  splenetic 
John  Randolph  would  say,  "  She  is  altogether  the 
best  man  of  the  two." 

The  spring  after  the  President's  marriage,  his  term 
of  office  expired,  which  was  an  unspeakable  relief  to 
the  nation  and  probably  to  himself,  for  the  land 
was  teeming  with  murmurs  and  vituperation  ;  save 


MRS.  JULIA  GARDINER  TYLER.          215 

among  officeholders,  there  were  none  to  do  him 
honor. 

Historians,  while  condemning  his  administration, 
have  tried  to  throw  the  mantle  of  charity  about  him 
by  saying  he  was  in  a  false  position,  a  Democrat 
elected  by  the  Whigs,  it  was  not  in  the  power  of 
man  to  please,  but  he  was  once  the  endorser  of 
Henry  Clay. 

He  had  polished  manners,  a  mind  of  rare  culture, 
ample  means,  an  elegant  home  in  Sherwood  Forest, 
loving  sons  and  daughters,  a  beauteous  young  wife, 
and  had  it  not  been  for  the  storm  of  war  and  rebel 
lion  that  swept  over  the  land,  and  which  his  doc 
trines  and  influence  had  helped  to  foster,  he  might 
have  lived  out  his  days  in  calm,  happy  retire 
ment. 

When  Virginia  seceded  from  the  Union,  he 
renounced  his  allegiance  to  the  United  States  and 
joined  the  Confederates.  He  was  the  president  of 
the  Peace  Commissioners  who  came  to  Washington 
in  the  last  days  of  Buchanan's  regime  and  accom 
plished  nothing. 

He  was  spared  from  drinking  the  lees  from  the 
bitter  cup  pressed  so  closely  to  Southern  lips,  as  he 
died  in  January,  1862.  He  lies  in  an  unmarked, 
neglected  grave,  in  Hollywood  cemetery,  Richmond. 
If  an  appropriation  were  asked  from  the  legislature 
of  Virginia,  or  from  Congress  for  a  memorial  tablet 


2l6         MRS.  JULIA  GARDINER  TYLER. 

to  the  memory  of  John  Tyler,  it  would  probably  be 
refused,  or,  at  least,  raise  a  wrangle. 

As  in  life,  so  at  death  was  his  position  an  anoma 
lous  one,  —  in  rebellion  against  the  government  of 
which  he  was  once  the  supreme  head  and  had  sworn 
to  protect. 

His  estate  was  ruined,  and  in  the  course  of  years 
the  ancestral  property  of  Mrs.  Tyler  became  in 
volved.  In  1879,  sne  asked  a  pension  from  Con 
gress.  That  Congress  responded  with  the  amount 
given  to  widows  of  presidents  is  a  mark  that  the  old 
sectional  bitterness  is  crushed  out ;  that  the  govern 
ment  knows  no  North,  no  South  ;  that  every  star  in 
the  grand  old  flag  is  in  its  place,  waving  over  the 
land,  made  free. 

A  few  years  since,  Mrs.  Tyler  bought  a  beautiful 
place  in  Richmond,  which  is  now  her  home.  Now 
and  then  she  visits  Washington,  and  the  few  who 
can  remember  her  as  a  girl  and  a  bride,  say  she  still 
has  traces  of  the  beauty  and  grace  which  made  her 
the  belle  of  the  capital  more  than  forty  years  ago. 

Her  portrait,  in  bridal  dress  and  veil,  is  hanging  in 
the  White  House,  and  was  the  second  portrait  per 
mitted  to  hang  there. 

Since  the  marriage  of  Mrs.  Cleveland,  she  has  lost 
the  distinction  of  being  the  only  woman  who  ever 
wedded  a  President  of  the  United  States. 

She  is  a  devout  member  of  the  Catholic  Church. 


MRS.   POLK. 

Miss  SARAH  CHILDRESS  was  the  daughter  of  a 
Tennessee  farmer,  near  Murfreesboro ;  one  of  those 
brave,  enterprising  men,  who  had  stepped  into  the 
forest,  and  with  his  own  right  arm  cut  down  trees, 
built  a  home,  to  which  every  passing  year  added 
increased  ease  and  plenty,  —  in  time  was  called  rich 
by  those  who  lived  about  him. 

His  own  boyhood  had  been  spent  in  work  and 
poverty,  in  a  region  where  books  were  rare,  and 
schools  open  only  for  a  few  weeks  in  winter. 

His  circumstances  were  not  as  his  father's  had 
been,  and  as  his  children  passed  from  infancy  to 
youth,  his  one  thought  was  to  give  them  a  chance 
of  acquiring  an  education  which  had  never  come  to 
himself. 

The  Moravians,  a  learned  sect,  descended  from 
the  old  Hussites,  of  Bohemia,  had  established  board 
ing-schools  in  Germany,  England,  and  the  United 
States.  One  in  the  neighboring  state,  North  Car 
olina,  had  a  name  for  strict  discipline  and  thorough 
teaching.  The  father  planned  better  than  he  knew 
when  he  gave  to  the  care  of  these  brothers  the  little 

217 


2l8  MRS.    POLK. 

girl,  who  was  one  day  to  be  the  first  lady  of  the 
land. 

The  old  poets,  Homer  and  Hesiod,  tell  us  a  pretty 
story,  if  it  be  not  true  (why  may  it  not  be  true  ? ), 
that  around  the  cradle  of  mortals  sit  the  Parcae, 
three  old  women  ;  one  presides  at  birth,  one  cuts 
the  thread  that  links  the  mortal  part  to  the  immor 
tal  ;  Homer  says  not  Jupiter  himself  can  stay  her 
hand  when  once  she  has  lifted  her  scissors.  The 
second  sister,  Lachesis,  spins  and  weaves  the  events 
and  actions  of  human  life.  Had  the  old  crone  whis 
pered  in  Farmer  Childress's  ear,  the  secrets  of  the 
web  she  was  weaving  for  his  child,  he  could  not 
have  acted  a  wiser  part. 

The  little  Sarah  was  dark-skinned,  black-eyed  — 
looked  more  as  if  she  were  an  Italian  or  a  Spanish 
child  than  an  American,  full  of  fun,  and  so  very 
intelligent  that  the  learned  brothers  guided  her 
studies  and  watched  her  progress  with  delight. 

Yet  the  school  life  was  short  in  those  days,  —  it 
was  not  thought  wise  that  girls  should  have  too 
much  learning, —  it  rather  made  them  objects  of  ridi 
cule.  Her  cheerfulness,  her  flashing  wit,  her  hand 
some  face,  and  well-bred  manners,  made  her  a 
favorite  among  the  townspeople,  the  pride  and  joy 
of  her  father's  heart ;  her  mother  had  died  while 
she  was  yet  an  infant. 

The  gay,  young  people,  and  the  open  hospitality 


MRS.    POLK.  219 

of  the  Childress's  farm  brought  a  crowd  of  visitors. 
One  came,  coolly  put  his  feet  beneath  the  farmer's 
social  board,  partook  of  all  the  country  pleasures, 
yet  he  had  but  one  intent,  —  that  was  to  rob.  Be 
fore  she  knew  it,  he  had  Miss  Sarah's  heart  in  his 
keeping. 

When  a  man  has  played  the  game  of  love  and 
won  his  point,  he  goes  to  the  father  with  confident 
boldness,  and  without  any  feeling,  remorse,  or  a 
shadow  of  shame,  asks  to  take  away  the  girl  who 
for  two  decades  or  more  has  been  loved,  petted,  the 
charm  of  the  father's  heart  and  the  mother's  life. 

This  lover  was  eight  years  the  girl's  senior,  a 
rising  lawyer,  and  a  member  of  the  State  Legisla 
ture,  called  James  K.  Polk. 

With  her  teens  went  her  maidenhood.  At  twenty 
she  was  the  wife  of  a  popular  politician.  Weddings 
in  the  country  were  followed  by  days  of  merry 
making  and  festive  pleasures.  The  popularity  of 
the  bride,  and  the  prominent  position  of  the  groom, 
gave  special  zest  to  this  occasion. 

With  uncommon  intelligence  and  the  fondness  of 
a  young  wife,  Mrs.  Polk  threw  herself  into  her  hus 
band's  career.  If  he  bowed  at  the  shrine  of  the 
Hero  of  the  Hermitage,  so  bowed  she. 

This  marriage  was  in  the  exciting  year  that 
Jackson  ran  in  the  presidential  race  with  Adams, 
and  Adams  won.  The  general  assumed  a  careless 


220  MRS.    POLK. 

cheerfulness,  but  was  nursing  up  wrath  against  all 
who  opposed  him.  Polk  opposed  Adams  through 
his  entire  administration,  and  in  the  next  campaign 
used  all  his  powerful  influence  to  defeat  him,  and 
place  Jackson  in  power.  When  he  was  himself  a 
candidate  for  the  presidency,  the  old  man  was  not 
ungrateful,  but  worked  and  schemed ;  at  the  end, 
hobbled  to  the  polls,  and  threw  what  proved  to  be 
his  last  vote  for  one  he  called  his  protege. 

A  year  after  the  marriage,  Mr.  Polk  was  elected 
representative  to  Congress,  and  re-elected  for  four 
teen  successive  sessions.  It  was  with  delight  that 
Mrs.  Polk  entered  upon  the  social  pleasures  of  the 
capital.  She  made  herself  mistress  of  all  the  ins 
and  outs  of  the  political  world ;  yet  she  was  a 
womanly  woman,  and  had  no  desire  to  shine  as  a 
disputant  in  the  political  arena.  Men  of  both  par 
ties  sat  at  her  hospitable  board,  but  with  wonderful 
tact  she  kept  politics  in  the  background,  and  by  her 
ready  wit  and  rare  conversational  powers  threw  a 
charm  over  all  her  guests. 

In  1839,  Mr.  Polk  declined  entering  the  contest 
for  re-election,  that  he  might 'be  a  candidate  for  the 
office  of  Governor  of  Tennessee. 

He  stumped  the  state  for  himself,  as  was  the 
Southern  custom.  On  the  fairest  terms  with  his 
popular  opponent,  his  ambition  was  aroused,  and  he 
went  in  to  win.  Day  and  night  he  worked,  flew 


MRS.    POLK.  221 

from  cast  to  west,  from  north  to  south,  seemed  to 
know  no  weariness  ;  it  was  said  that  he  did  not 
remove  his  boots  during  the  campaign. 

His  private  life,  and  his  record  as  an  honest  poli 
tician  were  spotless.  He  offered  no  terms,  made  no 
bargains,  gave  his  past  integrity  as  his  gage.  His 
frank  manners  and  thrilling  eloquence  won  the 
masses,  who  called  him  the  "  Napoleon  of  the 
Stump,"-  — a  title  that  both  parties  conceded  was 
fairly  won,  and  at  a  moment's  notice  he  could  make 
good.  Success  crowned  his  efforts,  and  the  gover 
nor's  mansion  at  Nashville  was  the  popular  resort 
of  all  Tennesseeans.  . 

About  this  time,  Mrs.  Polk  embraced  the  Presby 
terian  faith,  which  extreme  converts  twist  into  some 
thing  cold  and  ascetic.  Christians  in  the  full  sense 
of  the  word  (perhaps  St.  Simeon  Stylites  was),  yet, 
in  giving  up  innocent  amusements,  they  make  those 
outside  the  pale  feel  that  the  Master's  burden  is 
heavy. 

In  His  sad  mission,  we  have  but  one  record  that 
He  ever  entered  the  house  of  feasting  and  gayety,  - 
then,  that   nothing    might  be  wanting   to  make  the 
occasion  complete,  we  read  that   He  worked  one  of 
His  mighty  miracles. 

Mrs.  Polk's  friends  thought  she  carried  her  first 
zeal  to  asceticism,  but  over  and  above  her  austerities 
there  was  a  sweetness  of  disposition,  gracefulness  and 


222  MRS.    POLK. 

ease  of  manner,  with  such  unfailing  courtesy,  that 
she  won  favor  from  every  one  who  approached  her. 

During  the  fierce  campaign  of  Harrison  and  Tyler, 
when  politicians  were  stirred  almost  to  madness,  her 
politeness  alike  to  Democrat  and  Whig  never  failed  ; 
a  strong  partisan  of  Van  Buren's,  she  never  paraded 
it. 

In  1844,  her  husband  was  in  the  very  maelstrom  of 
politics.  His  nomination  for  the  presidency  was  the 
first  message  ever  sent  over  telegraphic  wires. 

In  those  days  there  were  mighty  giants  in  the 
land.  James  K.  Polk  was  trotted  out  as  a  well- 
groomed,  "  dark  horse,"  and  pressed  to  the  front. 

His  opponent,  Henry  Clay,  who  was  the  idol  of  the 
Whig  party,  soon  found  that  the  "  dark  horse  "  was 
of  the  Arabian  breed,  sensitive,  high-spirited,  never 
flinched  at  any  barrier.  The  grand  old  man  whom 
the  nation  loved,  yet  failed  to  honor,  was  distanced 
in  the  race. 

Some  said  Polk  came  into  power  by  fraud ;  others 
said,  by  sheer  good  luck,  he  was  a  pigmy  beside  the 
giants  ;  and  a  larger  number  asked,  "  Who  is  Polk  ? " 

Back  of  it  all  was  the  old  feud  between  North 
and  South.  Tyler's  parting  benediction  had  been 
the  annexation  of  Texas.  Southerners  stood  with 
carving  knives  in  hand  ;  nine  states  they  thought  to 
be  about  the  right  number,  none  much  less  than 
New  York  in  size,  and  all  for  the  solid  South.  The 


MRS.    POLK.  223 

Mexicans  claimed  the  whole  of  Texas,  though  she 
had  maintained  her  independence  for  nine  years  ; 
besides,  there  was  a  dispute  as  to  her  boundaries. 
The  bold  Sam  Houston  claimed  that  he  had  con 
quered  his  way  to  the  Rio  Grande,  while  the  Mexi 
cans  denied  his  crossing  the  Nueces. 

It  was  supposed  that  the  Mexicans  would  have 
pluck  enough  to  make  a  contest  over  their  spoliations, 
and  to  that  contest  Polk  was  pledged ;  therein  lay 
the  mettle  of  the  "  dark  horse." 

Mr.  Polk  felt  that  the  haste  in  annexing  Texas  had 
snatched  some  of  the  laurels  which  should  have  been 
bound  about  his  own  brow,  nevertheless,  in  his  in 
augural  he  sang  the  proper  exultant  pasans,  and 
promised  to  hold  fast  to  the  state,  which  the  astute 
Calhoun,  rather  than  Tyler,  had  clutched. 

His  closing  theme  was  Oregon.  He  declared  that 
it  was  not  to  be  divided,  and  asserted  that  our  title  to 
it  was  "  clear  and  unquestionable." 

Jackson  had  advised  him  upon  the  subject,  and  his 
advice  sounded  like  that  of  a  certain  father  to  his 
son  :  "  Get  money,  my  son,  honestly  if  you  can,  but 
get  it." 

Well,  the  president  had  thrown  down  a  gage  to  two 
foreign  governments,  aroused  the  ire  of  his  oppo 
nents,  and  created  a  jealousy  among  his  friends. 
England's  premier's  comment  upon  the  message 
was  a  ''blustering  announcement." 


224  MRS-    POLK. 

Responsibilities  crowded  upon  the  president,  and 
embarrassments  weighed  him  down  ;  the  treasury  was 
depleted,  and  there  was  no  settled  basis  upon  which 
to  rest  for  filling  it. 

No  wonder  that  his  hair  blanched,  his  health  failed, 
his  step  became  that  of  an  old  man,  and  that  he  bore 
an  air  of  languor  and  exhaustion. 

At  the  time  when  the  Presidents  come  into  power, 
many  of  the  wives  have  passed  middle  age,  and,  used 
only  to  country  life,  have  entered  upon  the  duties  of 
the  Executive  Mansion  with  shrinking  and  dread. 
The  position  is  a  big  sugarplum,  but  it  comes  so  late 
it  has  no  sweetness.  Even  Mrs.  Washington  com 
plained,  said  things  were  not  as  they  should  be  ;  her 
day  had  gone  by  to  enjoy  the  triumph. 

Mrs.  Polk  was  a  childless  wife,  and,  in  the  full  ma 
turity  of  her  matronly  charms,  had  already  won  a 
high  position  in  Washington  society.  When  her  day 
of  triumph  came,  she  stepped  to  the  front  with  ease, 
grace,  and  unmixed  pleasure.  She  has  come  down  in 
the  annals  of  the  White  House  as  one  of  its  most 
popular  mistresses,  yet  in  her  day  there  were  com 
plaints  that  she  sometimes  forgot  that  she  was  prc- 
siding-over  the  nation's  house,  —  se.emed  to  think  it 
her  private  home,  to  be  ordered  according  to  the 
formalities  of  her  rigid,  Puritan  life. 

Mrs.  John  Adams  had  introduced  the  custom  of 
offering  cake  and  wine  at  levees.  Jackson  thought 


MRS.    POLK.  225 

cake  nothing  without  cheese,  and  so  had  added  that 
to  the  menu. 

More  than  half  a  century  had  gone  by  since  we 
had  cut  the  leading  strings  by  which  England  held 
us  in  hand,  and  set  up  housekeeping  for  ourselves. 
Washington,  an  aristocrat  by  birth,  bred  in  vice 
regal  courts,  trained  by  the  courtly  Fairfax,  held  a 
Republican  Court  on  England's  royal  plan.  Only 
the  upper  classes  were  admitted,  and  those  under 
court  regulations  as  to  dress.  No  clasping  of  hands, 
only  sweeping  curtsies,  and  majestic  bows  for  the 
majesty  of  the  United  States. 

Times  were  not  as  they  had  been.  Every  succeed 
ing  reign  had  made  our  ways  less  and  less  like  Eng 
land's,  more  and  more  for  the  people.  At  stated  times, 
the  humblest  in  the  land  could  cross  the  President's 
threshold,  and  take  him  and  his  wife  by  the  hand. 

Mrs.  Polk  put  an  end  to  refreshments,  but  it  was 
in  no  spirit  of  parsimony  or  teetotalism,  only  things 
were  on  a  different  basis. 

At  the  present  time,  the  President's  increased 
salary  would  not  cover  the  cake  and  cheese,  nor 
all  the  vintages  of  Europe  supply  the  wine,  even  if 
the  guests  drank  like  gentlemen. 

Solomon,  especially  endowed  with  wisdom,  said 
that  there  is  a  time  for  everything  under  the  sun, 
but  to  a  rigid  Presbyterian  there  is  no  time  to  dance, 
so  Mrs.  Polk  swept  that  custom  aside. 


226  MRS.    POLK. 

The  Executive  Mansion  is.  not  the  place  for  balls  ; 
Mrs.  Polk  pleasantly  said  to  one  who  disapproved 
her  act,  "  You  would  not  dance  in  the  President's 
house,  would  you  ? "  To-day,  the  thing  would  not 
be  tolerated  ;  but  the  one  who  took  the  initiative  in 
these  proper  changes  must,  of  course,  come  in  for  a 
certain  amount  of  censure  ;  yet,  her  exceeding  affa 
bility  tided  her  over,  and  where  a  less  potent  social 
factor  would  have  gone  down,  she  won. 

Like  Lady  Washington,  she  received  her  guests 
sitting ;  once  when  she  sat  gayly  talking  with  the 
crowd  about  her  sofa,  a  distinguished  South  Carolin 
ian  raised  his  voice,  he  meant  to  be  heard,  and  said  : 
"  Madam,  there  is  a  woe  pronounced  against  you 
in  the  Bible."  Every  voice  was  hushed,  and  a 
scared  look  came  over  the  faces  of  the  guests,  only 
Mrs.  Polk  was  at  ease,  and  while  her  black  eyes 
flashed,  she  said,  with  a  bright  smile,  "  What  have  I 
done  ? "  "  Well,  the  Bible  says,  '  Woe  unto  you, 
when  all  men  speak  well  of  you.''  Again  the 
guests  breathed,  and  the  wit  and  abandon  went  on 
still  more  merrily. 

In  the  last  year  of  her  stay  in  the  Executive 
Mansion,  there  was  a  grand  dinner  party.  Henry 
Clay,  as  the  most  honored  guest,  sat  at  Mrs  Polk's 
right  hand.  In  the  happy  manner  and  silvery  tones 
which  took  every  heart  by  storm,  he  said  :  "  Madam, 
I  must  say  that  in  my  travels,  wherever  I  have  been, 


MRS.    POLK.  227 

in  all  companies  and  among  all  parties,  I  have  heard 
but  one  opinion  of  you.  All  agree  in  commending 
your  excellent  administration  of  the  domestic  affairs 
of  the  White  House.  But,"  looking  towards  her 
husband,  "as  for  that  young  gentleman  there,  I 
cannot  say  as  much.  There  is  some  little  difference 
of  opinion  in  regard  to  the  policy  of  his  course." 

Mrs,  Folk's  happy  gift  at  repartee  never  failed  her. 
"  Indeed,"  she  said,  "  I  am  glad  to  hear  that  my 
administration  is  popular ;  and  in  return  for  your 
compliment,  I  will  say,  that  if  the  country  should 
elect  a  Whig  next  fall,  I  know  of  no  one  whose 
elevation  would  please  me  more  than  that  of  Henry 
Clay.  And  I  will  assure  you  of  one  thing,  if  you  do 
have  occasion  to  occupy  the  White  House  on  the 
fourth  of  March  next,  it  shall  be  surrendered  to  you 
in  perfect  order,  from  garret  to  cellar." 

"  Thank  you,  thank  you  !  "  said  Mr.  Clay,  "  I  am 

certain  that" in  the  uncertain  sea  of  politics, 

Clay  was  glad  to  drown  what  he  was  certain  of  in 
the  gay  shouts  of  laughter  given  in  applause  of  Mrs. 
Polk. 

The  foreign  ministers  would  often  remark  that 
not  a  crowned  head  in  Europe  could  queen  it  more 
royally  than  the  wife  of  the  Republican  President, 
but  that  her  dark  face  fitted  her  rather  for  the  crown 
of  Spain  than  for  any  Anglo  Saxon  throne. 

Poets  penned  poems  in  her  honor.     One,  perhaps 


228  MRS.    POLK. 

by  poetical  license,  compared  her  to  the  Pleiad,  who 
forsook  her  home  and  broke  the  hearts  of  her  sisters. 
Ovid  puts  it  that  the  Pleiad,  a  daughter  of  the  skies, 
by  stooping  to  wed  a  mortal  man,  lost  her  celestial 
light,  thus  causing  her  sisters  shame  —  a  word  never 
to  be  coupled  with  the  name  of  Mrs.  James  K.  Polk. 

Mr.  Polk  redeemed  his  pledge,  and  pushed  on  the 
war  with  Mexico.  United  States  soldiers  sat  in  the 
halls  of  the  Montezumas  and  dictated  terms  of  peace. 
Money  was  given  the  conquered  people  by  the  mil 
lion,  but  New  Mexico  and  California  were  the  spoils 
of  the  victors. 

The  giants  of  the  North  said  it  was  done  by  might, 
not  by  right;  that  the  war  was  unjust  in  its  origin 
and  slavery  was  its  object. 

The  carvers  whetted  their  knives,  and  said,  we  can 
double  the  nine  states  and  all  for  the  solid  South. 

Although  the  war  had  been  opposed  by  the  North, 
yet  when  it  had  been  once  declared,  it  patriotically 
joined  hands  with  the  South,  and  supported  it  in  good 
faith.  Webster  and  Clay,  each  gave  a  son  and  each 
lost.  (My  country,  right  or  wrong  !)  . 

Victory  and  possession  brought  forward  the  por 
tentous  subject  that  was  so  hydra-headed.  A  Her 
cules  could  always  be  found  to  cut  off,  but  not  until 
Lincoln's  administration  was  there  an  Tolas  to  apply 
the  burning  iron. 

One,  David  Wilmot,  had  offered  a  bill  in  Congress, 


MRS.    POLK.  229 

forbidding  slavery  in  any  territory  to  be  acquired 
from  Mexico.  It  had  been  lost  when  we  had  the 
territory  to  win,  but  now  it  was  won,  the  Proviso 
had  more  interest  and  agitated  many  minds. 

Calhoun  maintained  that  the  territories  were  com 
mon  property,  and  that  the  people  of  the  North  and 
of  the  South  should  enter  in  and  enjoy  the  land,  each 
in  its  own  way. 

Imagine  Calhounists  and  Garrisonites  dwelling 
side  by  side  !  In  comparison  with  the  result,  the 
explosion  of  dynamite  would  be  but  the  effervescence 
of  soda. 

There  was  a  hue  and  cry  throughout  the  land.  A 
cry  of  "  dissolution  of  the  Union  "  came  shrieking 
from  the  South.  To  complicate  serious  matters  and 
make  them  more  serious,  the  country  was  on  the  eve 
of  a  presidential  election. 

Politicians  can  lash  the  people  into  fury,  but  some 
times  an  unlooked-for  event  will  mysteriously  change 
the  phase  of  affairs,  and  calm  the  passions  of  men. 
An  El  Dorado  opened  on  the  Pacific  slope  in  1848, 
just  at  the  close  of  the  war.  Foreigners  and  natives, 
red  men  and  white,  flocked  thither  in  crowds,  but 
Northerners  led  the  van  and  outnumbered  all  the 
rest.  They  were  going  to  see  no  Southern  carvers 
make  mincemeat  of  the  land  where  they  had  come 
to  dwell  —  not  they.  When  California  knocked  at 
the  gate  of  the  Union  she  came  in  free. 


23O  MRS.    POLK. 

If  there  be  a  pie  with  a  plum,  England  is  always 
ready  to  put  in  her  thumb.  In  the  days  when  Texas 
was  an  independent  state,  her  cotton  fields  were 
very  fair  to  English  eyes.  Somehow,  and  in  some 
way,  she  had  hoped  to  reap  some  advantage  from 
them,  but  when  the  United  States,  with  marvellous 
gastronomic  skill,  swallowed  the  pie  whole,  she  lost 
the  delicious  plum. 

Before  the  victories  beyond  the  Rio  Grande  had 
begun,  the  Oregon  difficulty  had  assumed  alarming 
proportions.  More  land  on  the  American  continent 
England  w'ill  have,  and  she  boldly  makes  a  claim  in 
the  Northwest  —  says  all  Oregon  down  to  the  Califor 
nia  line  is  hers.  Mr.  Polk,  as  boldly  and  a  little  more 
so,  says  it  is  not. 

The  country  had  been  thought  to  be  a  wilderness 
and  fur-bearing  animals  its  only  product. 

The  fur  companies  of  the  two  countries  had 
trapped  and  traded  at  their  different  settlements,  and 
the  question  of  land  ownership  had  hardly  been 
raised.  But  for  the  missionary,  Marcus  Whitman, 
Mr.  Webster  would  have  traded  off  all  Oregon  for 
the  cod  fisheries  in  the  northeast. 

The  English  had  never  thought  to  settle  in  the 
country,  but  when  Americans  with  families  did,  in 
the  rich  valley  of  the  Willamette,  they  thought  there 
must  be  something  juicy,  which  it  behooved  them  to 
extract. 


MRS.    POLK.  231 

Had  Mr.  Folk  been  autocrat,  as  well  as  cormorant, 
they  would  only  have  gained  it  by  the  measuring  of 
swords  and  the  firing  of  cannons  ;  but  in  the  United 
States  there  was  a  Senate  and  House  of  Representa 
tives  ;  in  England,  a  Queen  with  a  wise  domestic 
counseller,  and  Lord  John  Russell  for  premier,  and 
commissioners  were  appointed  to  negotiate. 

The  states  that  had  whipped  England  before  they 
were  born,  had  no  fear  of  her  now,  when  they  were 
in  full  maturity,  but  there  was  a  spirit  of  concession 
on  both  sides,  and  the  dogs  of  war  that  Polk  stood 
ready  to  unleash,  were  stayed  by  a  compromise, 
which  fixed  the  forty-ninth  parallel  as  our  northern 
boundary,  instead  of  54°  40',  which  Mr.  Polk  and  his 
supporters  claimed. 

In  Tyler's  administration,  Calhoun  had  offered  the 
British  government  all  north  of  the  forty-ninth  paral 
lel.  Buchanan  renewed  the  offer,  but  the  govern 
ment  remained  stiff  ;  he  withdrew  it  and,  backed  by 
Polk,  it  was  "  54°  40'  or  fight."  When  the  negotia 
tions  began,  the  outlook  was  very  gloomy ;  stocks 
fell  and  business  men  were  alarmed.  The  proposi 
tion  to  take  what  it  had  twice  refused,  came  from  the 
British  government. 

The  American  Minister  in  London  sent  a  whisper 
over  the  water  that  England  had  been  outwitted  — 
she  neither  knew  the  value  of  what  she  had  relin 
quished,  nor  did  she  know  how  deeply  we  were  in- 


232  MRS.    POLK. 

volved  with  the  Mexicans  down  upon  the  Rio 
Grande. 

One  would  think  Mr.  Folk's  greed  for  territory 
might  have  been  satiated. 

When  he  came  into  power  the  country  was  virtu 
ally  bounded  by  the  Rocky  Mountains ;  now  it 
swept  from  ocean  to  ocean  ;  the  flag,  that  had  been 
planted  on  the  banks  of  the  Sabine  had  moved  down 
to  the  Rio  Grande,  and  waved  there  by  right.  On 
the  North,  the  government  had  been  a  little  mixed  as 
to  meum  et  tutim,  but  he  had  the  happy  conscious 
ness  that  in  his  administration,  it  was  peaceably 
adjusted. 

President  Polk  courteously  welcomed  General  Tay 
lor  to  the  White  House,  and  on  the  fifth  of  March, 
(the  fourth  being  Sunday)  rode  with  him  to  the 
Capitol  and  congratulated  him,  when  he  had  taken 
the  oath  of  office,  and  came  back  a  private  citizen. 

His  enemies  said  that  he  had  been  another  Caesar, 

"  ranging  for  revenge, 
With  Ate  by  his  side,  come  hot  from  hell." 

His  friends  said  that  he  had  kept  the  "whiteness  of 
his  soul;"  with  human  wisdom,  and  human  frailties, 
beset  by  politicians,  it  is  as  difficult  for  a  man  to 
go  through  an  administration  at  the  White  House 
without  soil,  as  it  would  be  for  a  camel  to  go  through 
the  eye  of  a  needle  without  being  pinched. 


MRS.     POLK.  233 

The  last  Sunday  of  Mrs.  Folk's  stay  in  Washing 
ton  the  Presbyterian  clergyman  addressed  her  from 
the  pulpit,  and  gave  her  the  communion.  To  pastor 
and  people,  the  day  was  a  day  of  mourning. 

Mr.  Polk  had  stepped  round  by  round,  from  the 
State  legislature  to  the  Presidency,  —  had  worked 
without  ceasing;  now  hardly  past  the  prime  of  man 
hood,  with  ample  fortune,  full  of  honors,  he  would 
take  the  rest  he  had  so  laboriously  earned. 

Some  time  before  he  left  Washington,  he  bought 
a  fine  house  in  Nashville.  The  grounds  cover  a 
whole  square  in  the  finest  part  of  the  city,  known 
since  as  "Polk  Place."  He  went  from  the  capital 
to  his  home  by  the  way  of  the  Southern  States. 
He  had  schemed  and  imperilled,  if  not  bartered,  his 
integrity  for  the  South,  and  in  all  the  principal 
cities,  he  received  splendid  ovations. 

At  New  Orleans,  he  took  a  steamer  up  the  Missi- 
sippi.  It  was  the  year  that  the  cholera  raged 
throughout  the  entire  valley.  He  had  a  slight  form 
of  the  dread  disease  on  board  the  boat.  He  rallied, 
however,  reached  home  in  good  spirits,  and  at  once 
began  to  lay  out  his  grounds,  plan  improvements, 
project  a  tour  to  Europe,  even  went  so  far  as  to 
engage  a  courier.  That  slight  cholera  attack  had 
enfeebled  his  system,  the  disease  seemed  to  return 
on  him  ;  they  didn't  call  it  cholera,  but  chronic  diar 
rhoea.  No  alarm  was  felt  for  some  days,  but  still 


234  MRS-    POLK. 

the  disease  ran  on,  —  medicine  had  no  power  to  check 
it.  Fear  began  to  creep  into  Mrs.  Folk's  heart,  and 
she  sent  to  Columbia  for  the  man  who  had  been  his 
physician  for  more  than  twenty  years. 

The  disease  was  checked  ;  the  hearts  of  all  about 
him  bounded,  and  their  pulses  thrilled  with  hope  ;  a 
few  days  with  good  nursing  and  tonics,  and  all  would 
be  well.  The  strange  lassitude  still  hung  about  him  ; 
he  seemed  to  have  no  rallying  power.  His  wife 
watched  him  with  anguish ;  she  could  see  his 
strength  go  with  the  passing  hours.  His  aged 
mother,  who  lived  in  the  family,  would  creep  in, 
throw  herself  upon  her  knees,  and  pray  by  his  bed 
side.  An  old  man,  who  was  a  Methodist  minister, 
and  a  friend  of  the  family,  would  often  steal  in,  sit 
by  his  side  and  read  the  Bible. 

Mr.  Polk  said  that  he  was  not  afraid  to  die,  but 
now  that  he  was  about  to  pass  from  this  world  into 
the  unseen  and  unknown,  he  whispered  that  he 
would  like  the  rite  of  baptism,  and  almost  at  the 
last,  his  old  friend  administered  it.  He  died  on  the 
fifteenth  of  June,  fifty-three  years  of  age. 

This  was  the  first  great  grief  which  had  come  into 
Mrs.  Folk's  happy,  prosperous  life,  —  a  widow  before 
she  had  rounded  her  forty-sixth  year.  Nearly  forty 
years  have  gone  by  since  that  fatal  June  day,  and 
still  she  lives  at  Polk  Place.  Time  has  softened  her 
grief,  but  society  has  lost  its  charm  ;  ever  since,  she 


MRS.    POLK.  235 

has  lived  retired,  and  grows  more  and  more  asceti- 
cally  devout.  As  she  longed  for  some  companion 
ship  in  the  lonely  hours,  full  of  shadows  of  the  past, 
she  adopted  a  niece,  who  has  ever  since  remained 
with  her. 

She  has  always  been  treated  with  the  respect  and 
distinction  to  which  her  dignity  and  high  position 
entitle  her.  For  years,  the  Legislature  in  a  body, 
visited  her  on  New  Year's  Day. 

Delegations  of  Masons,  Odd  Fellows,  Sons  of 
Temperance,  and  Members  of  the  General  Assem 
bly  of  Presbyterians  often  seek  for  an  introduction 
to  Polk  Place,  that  they  may  pay  their  respects  to 
its  celebrated  mistress. 

President  Cleveland,  in  his  tour  of  the  Western 
States  in  1887,  had  the  honor  of  being  received  by 
her,  and  of  presenting  his  fair  young  wife,  so  rapidly 
passing  into  history  as  one  of  the  galaxy  of  brilliant 
women  of  the  White  House,  to  which  the  aged  lady 
belongs. 

The  calm,  monotonous  quiet  into  which  Mrs. 
Folk's  life  had  settled,  was  broken  by  the  Civil 
War.  All  her  sympathies  were  with  the  Confeder 
ates  ;  with  her  birth  and  training  it  could  hardly 
have  been  otherwise. 

Women  of  the  North  had  little  pity  for  their 
Southern  sisters  ;  could  little  realize  how  outraged 
they  felt,  how  their  passions  could  rise  to  such  a 


236  MRS.    POLK. 

height,  that  if  General  Butler  could  have  had  a 
decent  apology  for  his  indecent  order,  their  violent 
conduct  gave  it.  To  them  the  war  was  a  war  of 
invasion,  an  invasion  of  their  dearest  rights.  What 
cared  they  for  the  grand  old  Union  or  the  dear  old 
flag  ?  Their  state  had  seceded,  and  they  only  longed 
that  their  star  should  be  stricken  from  its  azure 
folds.  Husbands  and  sons  had  gone  down  to  bloody 
graves,  and  the  victors  trod  their  streets  and  sat 
within  their  walls.  Northern  women  mourned  their 
dead,  but  they  should  have  thanked  God  that 
they  were  neither  tempted  nor  tried  as  Southern 
women. 

In  those  troublous  days,  Mrs.  Folk's  exalted  dig 
nity  never  forsook  her.  She  welcomed  the  Confed 
erate  officers  to  her  home,  bade  them  Godspeed  in 
their  efforts  for  separation,  and  was  buoyed  by  the 
hope  that  success  would  crown  their  efforts  in  the 
end. 

In  February  of  1862,  she  had  the  humiliation  and 
grief  of  seeing  Nashville  occupied  by  the  Union 
troops.  Murfreesboro,  her  early  home,  was  a  battle 
field,  and  there  too,  victory  was  on  the  side  of  the 
Union. 

When  Sherman  and  other  Union  officers  paid 
their  respects  to  her  they  were  treated  with  polite 
ness,  perhaps  a  little  cold  and  formal,  but  strict  and 
stately  politeness  still. 


MRS.    POLK.  237 

The  war  swept  away  a  part  of  Mrs.  Folk's  large 
property,  but  she  has  been  able  to  live  at  Polk  Place 
in  the  style  to  which  she  has  been  used.  Congress 
pays  her  the  pension  granted  to  the  widows  of  the 
Presidents. 


MRS.  TAYLOR. 

ONE  claiming  the  power  of  foretelling  future 
events,  once  whispered  to  Josephine  that  she  would 
one  day  be  the  Empress  of  France.  In  the  dark 
days  of  Robespierre,  when  the  guillotine  seemed 
nearer  than  a  crown,  the  prophecy  buoyed  her  spirits, 
and  the  hope  of  its  fulfilment  never  faded  from  her 
mind. 

Had  a  sibyl  whispered  in  the  ear  of  Miss  Margaret 
Smith,  the  daughter  of  a  Maryland  farmer,  that  she 
would  one  day  be  the  wife  of  a  President  of  the 
United  States,  and  mistress  of  the  White  House, 
she  would  have  laughed  in  derision.  In  the  dark 
days  of  danger,  which  must  come  to  a  woman  who 
follows  a  soldier  husband  into  the  red  man's  land, 
she  would  have  thought  it  more  likely  that  her  scalp- 
locks  would  float  from  the  belt  of  a  savage.  The 
belief  in  the  fulfilment  of  such  a  prophecy  would 
have  darkened  her  life.  The  position  would  have 
had  no  charm,  even  if  she  could  have  turned  to  it 
from  the  altar,  on  her  wedding  day. 

She  was  born  in  the  latter  part  of  the  last  cen 
tury,  when  the  colonies  were  just  crystallizing  into  a 
Union.  She  belonged  to  a  good  family,  whose  home 

238 


MRS.    TAYLOR.  239 

was  on  the  estate  where  the  father  of  Mrs.  J.  Q. 
Adams  had  formerly  resided,  in  the  rich  farming 
districts  of  Maryland.  With  other  girls  of  her  class, 
she  went  to  the  village  school ;  at  home  she  had  a 
thorough  domestic  training.  To  queen  it  over  a 
humble  home,  with  one  she  loved,  make  the  most  of 
small  means,  was  the  highest  point  to  which  the 
girl's  mind  ever  soared. 

She  had  turned  twenty  when  she  first  met  Zach- 
ary  Taylor ;  one,  who  was  born  in  the  wilderness, 
near  the  site  of  the  present  city  of  Louisville,  and 
trained  to  frontier  life.  To  avenge  the  bloody 
ravages  of  the  Indians,  incited  by  the  English,  fired 
the  hearts  of  all  the  youth  whose  homes  were  sub 
jected  to  their  inroads. 

Young  Taylor  never  thought  it  to  be  the  road  to 
fame,  when  he  urged  his  father  to  help  him  to  a 
commission.  At  the  time  that  he  almost  despaired 
of  ever  obtaining  it,  an  elder  brother,  who  was  a 
lieutenant,  suddenly  died.  Through  the  aid  of 
Madison,  who  was  a  relative  and  at  that  time  Sec 
retary  of  State,  the  commission  was  transferred  to 
the  young  Zachary,  then  just  twenty-four  years,  of 
age. 

He  had  met,  loved,  wooed,  and  now,  on  lieuten 
ant's  pay,  married  Miss  Margaret  Smith.  He  joined 
the  army  at  New  Orleans  and  she  followed  him. 
Were  his  home  in  a  log-cabin,  tent,  or  barracks  there 


240  MRS.    TAYLOR. 

was  hers.  She  would  consent  to  no  separation 
that  could  be  avoided.  Babies  came,  but  the  migra 
tory,  tented  life,  often  upon  the  trail  of  the  savages, 
was  no  place  for  babies.  As  soon  as  they  could  be 
removed  with  safety,  they  were  sent  to  her  family 
at  the  East,  when  of  proper  age  placed  at  boarding- 
schools.  Mother's  love  was  not  wanting,  —  the 
struggle  of  parting  was  no  light  one,  but  her  pres 
ence  was  the  solace  of  her  husband  ;  she  could  con 
tribute  to  his  comfort,  and  she  loved  him  more  than 
babies. 

In  the  beginning  of  the  war  of  1812,  Taylor,  who 
had  been  promoted  to  the  rank  of  captain,  was  sent 
to  command  a  fort  on  the  Wabash,  which  Harrison 
had  built  on  his  way  to  Tippecanoe.  With  only  fifty 
men,  and  a  third  of  those  ill,  he  was  attacked  by  a 
band  of  Indians,  led  by  the  brave  Tecumseh  himself. 
The  horrors  of  that  night  could  never  be  told  in 
words ;  just  before  midnight  the  war-whoop  rang, 
the  battle  raged  until  morning  ;  the  sick  and  the 
well  fought  on,  nerved  by  the  thought  that  it  was 
better  to  die  than  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  merci 
less  foe.  The  long  hours  of  agony  went  by  —  at 
sunrise,  victory  was  on  the  side  of  the  whites. 

This  was  the  young  captain's  first  separate  com 
mand,  and  so  bravely  had  he  played  his  part,  that  he 
was  promoted  to  the  rank  of  major. 

After  this,  he  was  sent  to  a  frontier  post  in  the 


MRS.    TAYLOR.  241 

West,  and  for  three  years  saw  no  more  active 
service.  At  the  close  of  the  war,  the  army  was 
reduced  ;  he  was  not  dismissed,  but  degraded  in 
rank,  and  this  always  touches  a  soldier's  pride.  He 
resigned  and  went  to  farming. 

Now  the  wife  was  happy ;  she  could  have  a 
settled  home  with  husband  and  children.  It  was  a 
short-lived  happiness  ;  through  friends  his  rank  was 
restored  and  he  returned  to  the  army  ;  was  ordered 
to  Green  Bay,  in  Michigan,  where  for  years  he  led  a 
tedious,  monotonous  life,  away  from  society  but 
always  cheered  by  the  presence  of  his  faithful, 
happy  Margaret. 

In  the  Black  Hawk  war,  he  took  an  active  but 
subordinate  part,  and  was  promoted  to  the  rank  of 
colonel. 

Once  he  had  a  command  of  fifty  regulars  and  a 
band  of  Illinois  volunteers  ;  the  latter  insisted  that 
they  were  only  enlisted  to  protect  their  own  state. 
Taylor  believed  that  they  were  in  the  right,  but  as  a 
soldier  he  had  no  opinions.  An  order  came  in  the 
night  for  him  to  cross  the  border.  The  soldiers, 
hearing  of  it,  began  to  discuss  the  matter  as  if  it 
were  optional. 

Taylor  quietly  said :  "  Gentlemen  and  fellow- 
citizens  ;  the  word  has  been  passed  on  to  me  from 
Washington  to  follow  Black  Hawk,  and  to  take  you 
with  me  as  soldiers.  I  mean  to  do  both.  There  are 


242  MRS.    TAYLOR. 

the  flat-boats,  drawn  up  on  the  shore ;  here  are 
Uncle  Sam's  men,  drawn  up  behind  you  on  the 
prairie." 

Taylor  never  indulged  in  empty  threats  and  the 
men  thought  it  safer  to  take  to  the  boats.  In  a  few 
hours  they  were  on  the  trail  of  the  savage  foe. 

At  the  close  of  the  war,  he  again  sank  into  ob 
scurity,  defending  the  frontiers  for  twenty-four  years. 

His  domestic  happiness  had  hitherto  been  perfect  ; 
the  one  thought  of  his  wife  had  ever  been  to  minis 
ter  to  his  comfort.  She  would  even  prepare  his  food 
with  her  own  hands.  If  food  were  scarce,  she  would 
see  that  there  was  no  waste;  if  poor,  she,  with  the 
rare  skill  of  a  Maryland  cook,  could  impart  to  it 
some  tempting  flavor,  and  then  the  dainty  neatness 
with  which  it  was  served  gave  it  an  additional  zest. 

One  son  and  three  daughters  had  been  born  to 
them,  and  now  that  they  were  grown  and  educated, 
were  sometimes  allowed  to  visit  at  the  military  post, 
where  the  colonel  was  stationed. 

Both  he  and  his  wife  had  a  strong  aversion  to  their 
girls'  marrying  into  the  army,  and  leading  the  lives 
they  had  led,  —  lives  without  a  home  ;  then,  what 
was  a  more  serious  thing,  the  lives  of  many  of  the 
officers  were  far  from  correct.  Business  men  were 
the  proper  sort  of  husbands  for  their  girls,  and  none 
other  would  be  countenanced. 

While  the  colonel  was  away  on  a  military  tour  of 


MRS.    TAYLOR.  243 

inspection,  Jefferson  Davis,  a  young  lieutenant,  fresh 
from  West  Point,  met  the  second  daughter,  Miss 
Sarah,  and  made  love  to  her.  The  girl  was  by  sev 
eral  years  the  younger,  coy,  shy,  covered  with 
blushes,  yet  his  love  tale  was  poured  into  willing 
ears  ;  her  eyes  told  what  her  tongue  would  not  utter. 
Parental  consent  was  asked,  and  refused,  decidedly 
refused. 

Colonel  Taylor  was  not  given  to  changing  his 
mind,  as  the  pair  well  knew.  Jefferson  Davis  pro 
posed  an  elopement,  and  the  girl  placed  her  hand  in 
his.  How  often  does  a  shy,  timid  maiden  astonish 
her  friends  by  fearlessly  taking  a  step  that  would 
appal  many  a  bolder  girl.  Young  Davis  resigned, 
and  went  to  his  home  in  Mississippi. 

When  the  father  returned,  the  pair  were  married 
and  gone.  He  was  bitter  in  his  wrath  ;  his  girl  was 
wanting  in  maidenly  dignity,  in  any  sense  of  filial 
duty. 

For  young  Davis,  his  scorn  knew  no  bounds  :  he 
was  lost  to  all  sense  of  honor  ;  he  was  no  gentleman  ; 
he  would  not  "touch  his  hand  with  a  pair  of  tongs  " 
(his  favorite  expression).  A  runaway  marriage  was 
never  to  be  condoned  nor  forgiven 

& 

In  a  few  months  the  young  wife  died,  and  the 
father's  heart  had  never  softened  towards  her.  His 
shame  at  the  marriage,  and  his  grief  at  her  death 
only  embittered  him  the  more  against  the  man  who 


244  MRS-    TAYLOR. 

had  robbed  him.  If  one  dared  to  plead  his  youth 
and  his  love  as  an  excuse,  the  father  would  only 
shake  his  head  and  say,  "  No  honorable  man  would 
have  done  it." 

In  1836,  there  was  a  fresh  difficulty  with  the 
Indians.  Osceola  was  the  son  of  an  English  trader 
and  a  Seminole  squaw.  He  had  been  left  with  his 
mother,  and,  when  grown  to  manhood,  there  was 
nothing  about  him  that  would  suggest  that  he  was 
a  half-breed.  He  married,  and  his  wife  was  taken 
from  him,  claimed  as  a  slave.  Burning  with  revenge, 
he  gathered  a  band  of  his  tribe,  and  put  to  death  a 
garrison  or  more  than  a  hundred  men.  Soon  after, 
he  was  captured  and  placed  in  irons.  His  wrongs 
pleaded  for  him,  and  he  was  released. 

Indians  are  treacherous  by  nature,  and  these  Sem- 
inoles  had  been  so  often  wronged  that  they  were  not 
safe  neighbors.  The  United  States  government  pro 
posed  to  move  them  beyond  the  Mississippi,  and  most 
of  the  chiefs  had  signed  a  treaty  to  that  effect.  The 
mass  of  the  Indians  had  no  mind  to  go,  and  denied 
that  their  chiefs  had  a  right  to  sell  their  hunting- 
grounds. 

Osceola  took  advantage  of  the  times  and  the  anger 
of  his  tribe,  to  stir  up  a  war  of  resistance.  He  gath 
ered  seven  hundred  warriors  and  encamped  in  the 
almost  inaccessible  swamps  about  Lake  Okeechobee. 

Colonel  Taylor  was  recalled  from  the  frontiers,  to 


MRS.    TAYLOR.  245 

subdue  and  remove  these  savages  whom  no  treaty 
could  bind. 

It  was  a  position  full  of  peril,  and  the  miasma  of 
the  swamps  was  even  more  to  be  dreaded  than  the 
savages.  With  soldierly  obedience  he  came,  and 
with  soldierly  skill  he  penetrated  the  swamps  in  the 
very  face  of  the  foe.  In  less  than  three  hours  the 
Indians  were  routed,  with  heavy  loss  on  both  sides. 

In  his  official  report,  Taylor  said  :  "  Around  Lake 
Okeechobee,  I  passed  through  the  most  trying  scenes 
£>f  my  life."  The  victory  and  his  gallantry  were  re 
warded  by  the  rank  of  general. 

It  has  been  said  that  Taylor  never  swore.  The 
fact  was  once  stated  in  his  presence  :  "  Not  often," 
said  he,  "  but  in  the  Everglades  of  Florida,  where 
heroes  were  battling  and  falling,  I  met  a  company  of 
Missouri  troops,  with  their  backs  to  the  enemy. 
Upon  being  questioned,  they  said  that  they  were 
ordered  to  the  rear.  *  You  lie  ?  you  scoundrels  ! ' 
I  can't  quite  remember,  but  I  think  that  there  was 
some  pretty  heavy  cursing  done  on  that  day,"  he 
added. 

When  the  summons  to  Florida  came,  Mrs.  Taylor, 
as  usual,  prepared  to  go  with  her  husband.  There 
was  a  cry  from  all  her  friends,  —  she  was  reckless,  she 
was  foolhardy.  No  persuasions  nor  arguments  could 
move  her.  In  the  barracks  at  Tampa  she  was  going 
to  settle ;  if  her  husband  were  killed,  life  would  not 


246  MRS.    TAYLOR. 

be  worth  having  ;  if  he  were  wounded,  she  could 
nurse  him  ;  if  not  him,  his  brave  men.  Going  ?  of 
course  she  was  going ;  and  she  went. 

After  the  battle,  besides  the  dead  there  were  one 
hundred  and  twelve  wounded  officers  and  soldiers,  and 
these  were  brought  to  Tampa.  The  work  Mrs.  Taylor 
had  foreseen  had  come,  and  bravely  she  performed  her 
part.  She  assumed  the  care  of  the  hospital,  bound 
up  wounds  and  soothed  the  suffering.  Her  skill  in 
cooking  was  brought  into  full  play  ;  her  presence  of 
mind,  her  cheerful,  even  temper  lightened  all  the 
weary  hours. 

The  Indians  were  too  much  broken  to  risk  another 
battle,  but  for  two  more  years  General  Taylor  was 
kept  in  the  Everglades  of  Florida,  then,  at  his  own 
request,  he  was  relieved  and  stationed  over  the  south 
west. 

Five  happy  years  followed  for  Mrs.  Taylor.  The 
family  headquarters  were  at  Baton  Rouge,  where  the 
barracks  were  more  comfortable  than  any  to  which 
she  had  ever  been  used  ;  yet  she  turned  from  them 
to  a  picturesque  cottage  formerly  occupied  by  the 
Spanish  Commandant,  which  pleased  her  fancy.  It 
had  only  four  rooms,  but  there  was  a  wide  veranda 
upon  all  sides  ;  better  than  all  a  little  plot  of  ground 
for  a  garden.  The  house  was  in  a  tumbledown  con 
dition,  but  after  some  repairs,  she  and  her  daughter, 
Miss  Betty,  transformed  it  into  one  of  the  cosiest. 


MRS.    TAYLOR. 

pleasantest  homes  in  all  that  region.  To  please 
them,  General  Taylor  bought  the  house  and  a  large 
piece  of  land  adjoining. 

With  a  house  of  her  own,  a  kitchen  garden  which 
she  could  watch  and  tend,  a  small  dairy,  it  seemed  to 
Mrs.  Taylor  like  the  home  life  of  her  girlhood,  for 
which  she  had  so  longed. 

Alas  !  a  cloud  was  gathering,  which  was  to  dissi 
pate  all  her  happiness  and  in  time  break  up  her 
home. 

General  Taylor  had  chosen  this  post,  that  he 
might  give  his  family  a  settled  home,  hoping  to  com 
bine  plantation  life  with  his  military  duties. 

Mr.  Folk's  plan  for  redeeming  his  pledge  for  a 
Mexican  war,  was  to  shield  his  administration  from 
responsibility  or  blame  and  throw  it  upon  the  United 
States  troops,  hoping  that  by  tricky,  ambiguous 
orders,  they  would  provoke  Mexicans  to  an  attack. 
A  man  less  honest  than  General  Taylor  might  have 
fallen  into  the  snare.  He  would  ride  into  the  very 
jaws  of  death  if  such  were  his  orders,  questioning 
neither  the  right  nor  the  wrong  ;  without  orders  he 
would  remain  as  fixed  as  if  the  jaws  of  death  had 
shut  down  upon  him. 

With  one  so  intractable,  government  was  obliged 
to  show  its  hand  and  a  direct  order  to  advance  to  the 
Rio  Grande  was  given. 

The  calm,  happy  life  in   the   Spanish  cottage  was 


248  MRS.    TAYLOR. 

at  an  end.  The  husband,  who  for  so  many  years, 
had  contended  with  savages,  must  now  enter  upon  a 
war  with  a  civilized,  Christian  nation  —  a  war  of 
invasion,  where  the  wife  could  not  follow. 

The  barracks  at  Baton  Rouge,  which  had  been 
nearly  empty,  were  now  crowded  with  young  officers' 
wives,  who  were  almost  hysterical  at  parting  with 
their  husbands,  going  to  battle  for  the  first  time. 
The  general's  wife  and  Miss  Betty  put  aside  their 
own  grief,  flitted  about  the  quarters,  listened  to  the 
story  of  each  one,  and  sympathized  with  all.  The 
brave  front  and  cheerful  words  of  their  superiors, 
shamed  women  who  had  given  themselves  up  to 
clamorous  grief. 

Mrs.  Taylor  was  a  devout  member  of  the  Episcopal 
Church,  and  one  of  the  chief  regrets  of  her  life  had 
been  that  she  was  deprived  of  its  services.  For  the 
first  time  in  her  garrison  life  she  was  at  a  military 
post,  crowded  with  women  from  her  own  rank  in  life. 
With  the  townsfolks  and  the  officers'  wives,  enough 
people  could  be  gathered  to  warrant  the  opening  of  a 
chapel.  Under  her  supervision  a  room  was  fitted  up 
in  one  of  the  garrison  buildings  ;  when  there  was  no 
rector,  the  service  was  read. 

That  little  chapel  work  has  never  ended.  Years 
after  Mrs.  Taylor  died,  the  society  built  a  church, 
which  is  flourishing  in  Baton  Rouge  to-day. 

The   Mexicans  said  that    the  move  of  the  United 


MRS.    TAYLOR.  249 

States  troops  to  the  banks  of  the  Rio  Grande  was  an 
open  declaration  of  war ;  still  they  made  no  attack. 
Guns  ready  shotted  were  placed  opposite  Matamoras 
and  its  harbor  blockaded  ;  still  the  President  main 
tained  that  the  Mexicans  had  no  cause  for  hostilities. 

Mexicans  and  a  great  many  other  people  were  of  a 
different  mind.  A  small  force  crossed  the  river  to 
take  a  look  at  the  doings  of  the  United  States  troops 
and  they  in  turn  went  to  see  why  the  Mexicans  had 
crossed. 

Of  course,  a  skirmish  came  out  of  it ;  blood  was 
spilled  and  men  were  captured. 

Mr.  Polk  had  now  the  state  of  things  that  pleased 
him.  Mexicans  had  invaded  the  soil  of  the  United 
States  and  shed  the  blood  of  its  soldiers.  No  hold 
ing  back  now  —  artillery  men  behind  the  shotted 
guns  could  blaze  away. 

Soon  came  the  news  of  the  victory  on  the  field  of 
Palo  Alto,  followed  by  that  of  Resaca  de  la  Palma. 
American  cocks  crowed,  the  national  bird  flapped  its 
wings  and  shrieked.  "  On,  to  the  Halls  of  the  Mon- 
tezumas,"  shouted  the  people. 

Taylor,  who  had  been  buried  nearly  all  his  life  on 
the  frontiers  amid  savages,  was  the  hero  of  the 
day. 

People  began  to  be  curious  about  him.  Well,  he 
had  a  good,  honest  face,  but  his  figure  was  nothing 
in  his  favor  ;  he  was  dumpy,  short  in  the  body,  and 


25O  MRS.    TAYLOR. 

his  legs  too  short  for  his  body.  Never  but  once  had 
he  tried  to  set  off  his  person  by  fine  feathers. 

Commodore  Conner,  stationed  in  the  gulf  to  co 
operate  with  General  Taylor,  proposed  to  pay  him  a 
visit.  The  commodore,  if  not  the  dude  of  the  navy, 
was  noted  for  his  nicety  in  dress.  The  general's 
roundabouts,  trousers  tucked  in  boots,  and  coarse 
straw  hat,  with  brim  flapping  about  his  ears,  made 
him  equally  noted  for  his  style.  A  visit  from  a 
grandee  of  the  navy  put  him  all  in  a  flutter. 

He  had  an  ill-fitting  military  suit  at  the  bottom  of 
his  chest,  but  his  oldest  soldiers  had  never  seen  it 
worn.  Now  it  was  to  be  donned,  as  his  guest  would 
of  course  be  in  full  uniform,  surrounded  by  his  offi 
cers.  Uncomfortable  and  ill  at  ease  the  general  sat. 

The  commodore  had  all  the  instincts  of  a  gentle 
man  ;  arrayed  in  plain  white  drilling,  he  walked 
quietly  and  alone  into  the  general's  tent.  It  would 
have  been  hard  to  tell  which  was  the  more  astonished 
but  it  was  the  general  who  was  disconcerted. 

In  the  autumn,  the  bloody  battle  of  Monterey  was 
fought ;  the  town  and  the  military  stores  fell  into  the 
hands  of  the  Americans. 

After  this,  most  of  the  troops  were  withdrawn  and 
sent  to  General  Scott,  who  was  making  an  advance 
on  the  city  of  Mexico  ;  for  five  months  Taylor  re 
mained  inactive  at  Monterey,  simply  defending  the 
place. 


MRS.    TAYLOR.^  251 

Finally  the  government  sent  on  reinforcements 
and  the  general  made*an  onward  movement.  Fifty 
miles  from  the  town,  he  was  met  by  a  Mexican  mes 
senger,  bearing  a  flag  of  truce  and  demanding  a  sur 
render  ;  informing  him  that  his  small  force  of  five 
thousand  men  was  surrounded  by  twenty-one  thou 
sand  Mexicans,  commanded  by  Santa  Anna  himself. 

"  General  Taylor  never  surrenders,"  was  his 
answer.  To  his  officers  he  said  :  "  were  they  twice 
that  number,  it  would  make  no  difference."  To  his 
troops,  "  soldiers,  I  intend  to  stand  here,  not  only  so 
long  as  a  man  remains,  but  so  long  as  a  piece  of  a 
man  is  left." 

His  intentions  known,  he  made  his  preparations 
for  a  battle,  which  lasted  for  ten  hours  with  doubtful 
results. 

The  general  sat  through  it  all,  in  an  exposed  posi 
tion,  on  his  white  horse,  nursing  his  leg  thrown  over 
the  pommel  of  his  saddle.  His  staff  could  not  pre 
vail  upon  him  to  move  away.  The  entire  left  wing 
of  his  army  was  turned,  and  all  seemed  lost.  The 
Mexicans  shouted  themselves  hoarse,  as  if  the  vic 
tory  were  won  ;  for  the  time  it  really  was. 

Before  General  Taylor  made  his  advance  across  the 
Sabine,  he  had  called  for  volunteers  from  Mississippi 
and  Louisiana.  The  war  was  popular  at  the  South. 
Sons  of  the  first  families  in  Mississippi  had  formed 
a  regiment  and  chosen  Jefferson  Davis  for  their 


252  MRS.    TAYLOR. 

colonel.  In  the  first  battle,  he  had  been  slightly 
wounded,  but  had  figured  on  every  field.  By  some 
tacit  understanding,  he  and  the  general  never  met. 

At  the  narrow  pass  of  Buena  Vista,  when  all  was 
chaos  and  the  day  seemed  lost,  Taylor  thundered  to 
his  flying  troops  to  turn  and  advance  again.  Colo 
nel  Davis,  who  handled  his  Mississippi  Rifles  in  so 
masterly  a  way  that  they  were  the  first  to  re-form, 
proudly  standing  his  ground,  appealed  to  other  regi 
ments  to  "  stay  and  re-form  behind  that  wall,"  point 
ing  to  his  Mississippians. 

Giving  the  Southern  yell,  a  dash  was  made,  Davis 
setting  the  example  of  intrepidity  and  recklessness 
of  personal  danger  ;  the  band  fought  like  the  Titans, 
the  Mexicans  said,  like  devils.  He  who  had  been  so 
"dauntless  in  love,"  proved  that  he  was  no  ''dastard 
in  war."  Perhaps  the  thought  that  he  was  fighting 
under  the  eye  of  the  father  of  his  dead  wife,  who 
had  coupled  his  name  with  dishonor,  nerved  his 
arm. 

The  astonished  Mexicans,  unprepared  for  the  on 
slaught,  had  broken  and  fled. 

Half  of  the  brave  Mississippians  lay  stretched 
upon  the  ground.  The  bold  colonel  was  severely 
wounded  in  the  early  part  of  the  action,  but  sat  his 
horse  steadily  till  the  day  was  won,  and  refused  to 
delegate  any  part  of  his  duties  to  his  subordinate 
officers. 


MRS.    TAYLOR.  253 

The  general  had  watched  the  band  in  the  greatest 
excitement,  now  he  fairly  danced  with  joy,  yet  the 
tears  were  streaming  down  his  cheeks  —  the  victory 
was  won,  his  honor  was  saved. 

On  that  blcocly  ground,  Zachary  Taylor  and  Jef 
ferson  Davis  met  for  the  first  time.  Taylor  em 
braced  him  as  a  son,  and  the  tears  of .  the  two 
'mingled  for  the  young  wife  whose  body  had  lain 
for  so  many  years  on  the  banks  of  the  Mississippi. 

Success  had  made  the  war  immensely  popular. 
Cass  said  it  would  not  hurt  the  United  States  to 
swallow  Mexico  whole.  Indeed,  so  expansive  were 
the  ideas  of  the  administration  that  the  people  would 
hardly  have  been  astonished  to  have  seen  South 
America  served  as  a  second  course,  —  the  waters  of 
Magellan,  the  wine  of  the  banquet,  iced  by  the 
Antarctic  Ocean. 

The  work  of  "  Rough-and-Ready,"  as  his  soldiers 
lovingly  called  him,  was  done,  and  he  came  back  to 
the  Spanish  cottage  in  triumph.  His  immense 
popularity  suggested  to  Whig  politicians  that  he 
might  be  an  available  candidate  in  the  coming 
presidential  campaign. 

When  the  proposition  of  raising  him  to  the  high 
est  civil  office  was  first  broached  to  him,  he  promptly 
pronounced  it  as  too  absurd  to  be  thought  of  for 
a  moment, — declared  his  unfitness.  The  simple- 
minded  old  soldier  was  overruled,  and  at  last  yielded, 


254  MRS-    TAYLOR. 

on  condition  that  he  should  be  required  to  give  no 
pledges.  He  alarmed  and  astonished  his  sponsors 
by  allowing  a  letter  to  be  printed,  in  which  he  frankly 
confessed  that  he  had  only  "crude  impressions  on 
matters  of  policy,"  but  that  he  considered  himself 
"  in  the  hands  of  the  people/'  the  people's  candidate, 
and  if  elected  the  "  people's  President." 

Fearlessly  outspoken  as  he  was,  he  became  the 
nominee  of  the  Whig  party. 

The  rabid  ones,  termed  "  Conscience  Whigs," 
wouldn't  vote  for  him  because  he  owned  slaves, 
made  a  split  in  the  party,  and  set  up  a  candidate  of 
their  own  —  no  less  a  personage  than  the  ex-Pres 
ident,  Martin  Van  Buren,  which  seemed  almost 
grotesque. 

Webster  said  that  the  Whig  nomination  was  one 
"  not  fit  to  be  made,"  termed  the  nominee  "an  igno 
rant  frontier  colonel,"  as  he  really  was. 

If  the  buzzing  of  the  presidential  bee  began  to 
have  music  for  General  Taylor's  ears,  it  had  none  for 
his  wife  ;  she  was  more  bitter  in  her  opposition  than 
the  Abolitionists,  said  that  his  fixed  habits  would  not 
permit  him  to  live  under  the  constraints  of  a  life  at 
the  capital,  that  it  was  a  plot  to  deprive  her  of  his 
society,  and  shorten  his  life  by  unnecessary  care  and 
responsibility. 

His  victories  and  his  sterling  integrity  made  him 
the  successful  candidate.  Mrs.  Taylor's  private 


MRS.    TAYLOR.  255 

home,  which  had  been  her  delight,  was  private  no 
longer.  Friends  and  politicians  and  the  curious 
thronged  every  room,  which  made  her  life  a  burden. 

The  general  resigned  his  place  in  the  army,  the 
Spanish  cottage  was  given  up,  and  the  family  pro 
ceeded  to  Washington. 

General  Taylor  must  have  overcome  his  objections 
to  army  men  as  husbands,  for  his  eldest  daughter 
married  an  army  surgeon,  and  Miss  Betty  his  third 
and  favorite  daughter,  had  recently  married  Major 
Bliss,  his  chief-of-staff  in  the  Mexican  War,  and 
was  another  West  Pointer. 

Mrs.  Taylor  declined  having  anything  to  do  with 
the  receptions  or  hospitalities  of  the  Executive 
Mansion.  She  selected  rooms  for  herself,  which 
best  suited  her  ideas  of  housekeeping,  and,  as  in 
barracks,  attended  to  the  personal  comforts  of  her 
husband.  Her  mode  of  living,  and  smoking  a  corn 
cob  pipe  were  jeered  at  by  the  opposition,  hoping 
thereby  to  lessen  the  popularity  of  the  President. 

Americans  are  given  to  bowing  down  to  military 
heroes,  even  if  they  be  unlettered  and  unpolished. 
Old  Rough-and-Ready  was  the  hero  of  the  day,  and 
if  levees  must  be  held  and  state  dinners  must  be 
given  he  had  a  young  and  an  attractive  daughter  to 
receive  and  dispense  hospitality  at  his  table. 

The  inaugural  procession  was  more  imposing  than 
that  of  any  of  his '  predecessors.  The  President- 


256  MRS.    TAYLOR. 

elect  rode  in  a  carriage  drawn  by  four  gray  horses, 
accompanied  by  Mr.  Polk.  One  hundred  young 
gentlemen,  the  elite  of  the  District  of  Columbia, 
formed  a  body-guard  to  keep  off  the  crowd.  He 
was  preceded  by  twelve  volunteer  companies,  and 
followed  by  various  clubs  and  the  students  of  the 
Jesuit  College. 

The  inaugural  was  nearly  inaudible,  but  it  was 
rather  alarming  to  the  hotspurs  of  the  South.  Re 
ferring  to  the  dangers  which  threatened  the  Union, 
he  raised  his  voice  and  emphatically  said  :  "  What 
ever  dangers  may  threaten  it,  I  shall  stand  by  it, 
and  maintain  it  in  its  integrity,  to  the  full  extent  of 
the  obligations  imposed  and  the  power  conferred  upon 
me  by  the  Constitution." 

The  shy  bride,  Mrs.  Bliss,  made  her  dcbfit  into 
Washington  society  at  the  three  inaugural  balls  ; 
dressed  in  simple  white,  with  a  rose  in  her  dark  hair, 
she  took  all  hearts  by  storm  ;  it  was  said  that  she 
had  the  "artlessness  of  a  rustic  belle  and  the  grace 
of  a  duchess."  Her  married  name  seemed  for 
gotten,  she  was  only  the  daughter  of  Zachary 
Taylor,  a  part  and  parcel  of  the  nation  —  sweet 
Miss  Betty  — "  One  of  the  Graces,"  said  Miss  Fred- 
erika  Bremer,  who  was  present. 

The  second  attraction  was  the  Russian  Count  de 
Bodisco,  with  his  beautiful  American  wife.  The 
count  was  resplendent  in  the  uniform  of  an  imperial 


MRS.    TAYLOR. 

chamberlain,  with  the  insignia  of  a  number  of 
orders  of  knighthood.  The  countess  wore  the  dress, 
in  which  she  had  been  presented  to  the  Czar,  the 
year  before.  It  was  of  white  satin,  embroidered 
with  gold,  and  over  it  she  wore  a  crimson  velvet 
polonaise,  with  a  sweeping  train,  also  embroidered 
with  gold,  while  her  crimson  velvet  head  dress  was 
resplendent  with  diamonds. 

It  was  a  dazzling  scene  to  the  President,  and  he 
honestly  said:  "I  have  been  so  long  among  Indians 
and  Mexicans,  that  I  hardly  know  how  to  behave 
myself,  surrounded  by  so  many  lovely  women." 

Party  politics  ran  high,  even  the  opening  session 
had  been  inauspicious ;  for  three  weeks  there  had 
been  a  wrangle  in  the  House  over  the  speakership, 
and  slavery  had  been  the  question  upon  which  it  had 
all  hinged. 

California  had  donned  seven-league  boots  and  was 
a-clanging  and  a-whanging  away  at  the  gates  of  the 
Union,  imperiously  asking  to  be  a  star,  and  she 
wouldn't  be  a  star  if  a  son  of  Ham  walked  in  bond 
age  upon  her  soil. 

She  had  made  a  constitution  that  pleased  her,  and 
she  would  have  none  other. 

The  President  favored  her  admission,  uncondition 
ally,  without  any  of  Henry  Clay's  concessions  to 
make  it  palatable  to  the  South.  He  was  a  slave 
holder  and  his  sympathies  were  with  his  class.  He 


258  MRS.    TAYLOR. 

wrote  his  son-in-law,  Jefferson  Davis,  that  if  any 
attempt  were  made  to  deprive  the  Slave  States  of 
their  constitutional  rights,  he  was  willing  that  South 
erners  should  "act  promptly,  boldly,  and  decisively, 
with  arms  in  their  hands  if  necessary,  as  the  Union 
in  that  case  will  be  blown  to  atoms,  or  will  be  no 
longer  worth  preserving." 

The  honesty  of  the  "  ignorant  frontier  colonel " 
seemed  better  than  wisdom  ;  he  was  just  as  firm  to 
maintain  the  rights  of  the  Free  States,  and  when  the 
South  made  her  usual  threat,  with  something  of  the 
Jackson  ring  and  tone,  he  said :  "  Disunion  is 
treason  ; "  and  if  Southerners  attempted  to  carry  it 
out,  "  they  should  be  dealt  with  by  law  as  they 
deserved,  and  executed." 

When  Texas  claimed  the  control  of  New  Mexico, 
and  with  threats  demanded  the  withdrawal  of  United 
States  troops,  the  President's  order  to  the  military 
commandant  was,  "  repel  force  by  force,"  and  he 
promised,  if  need  were,  he  would  be  there  himself. 

The  South  was  alarmed.  Her  sons  had  schemed 
and  worked  to  bring  about  a  war  with  Mexico,  had 
fought  and  bled  that  the  territory  wrenched  from 
her  might  enlarge  their  own  borders — now  it  was 
eluding  them  and  was  only  to  increase  the  Free 
States  and  add  to  their  power.  They  denounced  the 
President  as  a  traitor  to  the  South. 

Burning  words  and  fiery  eloquence  burst   from  the 


MRS.    TAYLOR.  259 

lips  of  the  giants.  Calhoun  attacked  Benton,  and  he 
was  not  slow  in  hitting  back.  Such  was  the  din, 
that  honest  Zachary  Taylor  said  it  was  far  more 
trying  to  his  nerves  than  tracking  savages  or  fight 
ing  Mexicans  ;  nothing  decisive  came  of  it,  however ; 
the  government  didn't  fall  to  pieces,  though  at  times 
it  seemed  as  if  it  must. 

The  first  year  of  the  administration  wore  slowly 
away.  The  bitter  political  contest  had  rather  inter 
fered  with  social  enjoyments.  On  the  fourth  of 
March,  Miss  Betty  held  a  grand  reception  in  honor 
of  the  inauguration. 

She  had  become  a  social  power,  and  it  was  said 
that  in  manner,  grace,  ease,  and  conversation  she 
could  vie  with  any  "to  the  manner  born." 

"  Rough-and-Ready  "  would  wear  clothes  much  too 
large  for  him  (to  be  comfortable,  he  said),  but  he  had 
acquired  some  courtly  and  dignified  airs;  yet  there 
was  a  harassed  and  tired  look  on  his  face  ;  sleepless 
nights  were  his  portion.  Never  were  truer  words 
written  than,  — 

"  Uneasy  lies  the  head  that  wears  a  crown." 

The  Fourth  of  July  was  chosen  for  laying  the 
corner-stone  of  the  Washington  monument.  The  clay 
was  the  warmest  of  that  warm  season.  The  Presi 
dent  rode  in  the  procession  in  an  open  barouche,  sat 
upon  the  stand  during  the  oration,  speeches,  anrl  for- 


260  MRS.    TAYLOR. 

malities  of  the  occasion.  He  once  remarked  that  he 
never  felt  such  heat  in  Florida  or  in  Mexico. 

In  his  active,  outdoor  life,  there  had  been  little 
need  of  prudence  in  eating  and  drinking,  but  in  the 
changed  life  and  weakened  system,  a  cup  of  cold 
water  could  work  bitter  results.  In  less  than  an 
hour  paroxysms  of  pain  began.  From  the  first  he 
foresaw  the  end. 

There  was  a  touching  pathos  in  his  words  :  "  I 
should  not  be  surprised  if  this  were  to  end  in  death. 
I  did  not  expect  to  meet  what  has  beset  me  since  my 
elevation  to  the  presidency.  God  knows  I  have  tried 
to  fulfil  what  I  thought  to  be  my  honest  duty  ;  but  I 
have  been  misjudged,  my  motives  have  been  miscon 
strued,  and  my  feelings  grossly  betrayed." 

His  illness  brought  dismay  to  the  hearts  of  the 
people ;  the  story  of  Tippecanoe  was  to  be  repeated, 
-  killed  by  the  politicians. 

It  was  Webster  who,  almost  overcome  with  emo 
tion,  in  low,  thrilling  tones,  announced  to  the  Senate 
that  "a  great  misfortune  threatened  the  land."  The 
great  man  had  been  wroth  at  Taylor's  nomination  ; 
but  for  months  he  had  been  in  close  contact  with  the 
"frontier  colonel,"  and  realized  that  only  a  great  man 
could  be  so  modest,  so  pure,  so  sincere,  so  brave,  so 
true  to  his  principles,  so  spotless  in  his  integrity  ; 
if  not  a  politician,  a  statesman,  he  was  something 
higher,  nobler. 


MRS.    TAYLOR.  26l 

The  great  man  had  been  received  and  welcomed 
as  a  friend  in  the  home  circle,  had  learned  to  honor 
the  patient,  faithful  wife,  whose  manners  and  life 
showed  the  gentlewoman  and  the  Christian. 

There  was  something  piquant  about  Miss  Betty ; 
she  would  frankly  look  into  his  eyes,  and  talk  with 
the  social  abandon  of  a  cultured  woman  ;  mingled 
with  it  all  there  was  an  honest  sincerity,  often  some 
thing  unexpectedly  wise,  something  beyond  her  years, 
which  charmed,  —  made  her  unlike  other  society 
women. 

Five  days  and  nights  drew  out  their  weary  length, 
and  the  end  came.  It  seemed  as  if  Mrs.  Taylor  had 
had  the  gift  of  prophecy  when  the  subject  of  the 
presidency  was  first  spoken  of  in  the  Spanish  cot 
tage,  and  in  bitterness  had  said  :  "  It  is  a  plot  to  take 
him  from  me."  Kneeling  in  agony  at  his  bedside, 
she  saw  it  coming  true, — at  times  she  would  lie  in 
sensible. 

Clasping  her  hand  and  looking  into  her  eyes,  he 
said,  "  I  am  not  afraid  to  die.  I  have  tried  to  do  my 
duty."  He  never  spoke  again.  The  woman,  who 
had  never  flinched  at  parting,  when  he  had  gone  to 
the  battlefield,  who  had  instilled  bravery  and  Chris 
tian  resignation  into  so  many  stricken  hearts,  gave 
way  to  hysterical  grief,  —  shriek  followed  shriek,  and 
Miss  Betty's  case  was  almost  as  pitiable. 

His  eulogist  likened  him  to  the  noble  old  Romans, 


262  MRS.    TAYLOR. 

who  put  their  stamp  upon  the  eternal  city,  and  made 
her  what  she  was  in  the  days  of  her  palmy  grandeur. 
His  former  military  superior,  General  Scott,  said  he 
left  behind  him  not  an  enemy  in  the  world.  Politi 
cians  had  broken  but  had  never  bent  him. 

His  death  was  announced  in  the  Capitol  by  the 
tolling  of  the  bell  of  the  Department  of  State,  and 
the  peal  was  echoed  from  every  church  steeple  in 
the  city.  The  remains  lay  in  state  in  the  East  Room 
of  the  Executive  Mansion.  General  Scott,  in  a  rich 
uniform,  with  yellow  plumes  waving  from  his  high 
chapeau,  and  mounted  on  a  spirited  horse,  com 
manded  the  large  military  force  which  escorted  the 
cortege  to  the  Congressional  burial-ground.  A  high 
canopy  of  black  silk,  with  a  gilt  eagle  draped  with 
crape,  towered  above  the  funeral  car,  which  was 
drawn  by  eight  white  horses,  each  led  by  a  negro 
groom  dressed  in  a  white  Oriental  costume.  "  Old 
Whitey,"  who  had  carried  General  Taylor  through 
the  Mexican  War,  was  led  directly  behind  the  funeral 
car,  having  the  boots  of  the  dead  soldier  in  the  stir 
rups,  and  formed  the  most  touching  feature  of  the 
procession. 

Not  a  day  would  Mrs.  Taylor  linger  after  the  pom 
pous  funeral  was  over,  nor  would  she  ever  speak  of 
Washington  or  her  home  in  the  White  House. 

She  had,  no  heart  or  desire  to  go  back  to  the  Span 
ish  cottage,  which  had  been  the  only  house  that  in 


MRS.    TAYLOR.  263 

her  married  life  she  had  called  home.  The  friends  of 
her  youth  lived  in  Kentucky,  and  to  them  Colonel 
Bliss  and  Miss  Betty  took  her.  Her  grief  was  too 
fresh  to  bear  their  loving  sympathy,  and  she  soon 
went  to  her  son,  whose  home  was  in  Pascagoula, 
Louisiana. 

Time  always  softens  grief,  and  might  hers,  but  two 
years  were  -not  enough  for  one  so  stricken,  and  at  the 
end  of  that  period  she,  too,  passed  away. 

Mrs.  Bliss,  whose  home  was  in  Winchester,  Vir 
ginia,  soon  became  a  widow.  She  has  since  formed 
a  second  marriage,  and  still  lives  there. 

She  was  the  second  bride  of  the  Executive  Man 
sion  and  among  its  fair  mistresses,  crowned  with  the 
halo  of  youth,  the  daughter  of  the  old  soldier  will 
ever  hold  an  honored  place,  albeit  she  queened  it  but 
a  season. 

Richard,  the  son  of  General  Taylor,  joined  the 
Confederates,  and  took  a  leading  part  in  the  Civil 
War. 


MRS.  FILLMORE. 

Miss  ABIGAIL  POWERS  was  the  youngest  daughter 
of  a  Baptist  clergyman,  who  died  when  she  was  an 
infant.  The  wife  and  mother  was  left  penniless,  and 
for  years  there  was  a  weary  struggle  with  poverty. 
Later,  she  went,  for  economy's  sake,  with  her  broth 
ers  to  the  western  part  of  New  York,  into  what  was 
then  a  frontier  county. 

The  little  daughter,  now  ten  years  old,  was  remark 
ably  precocious  and  ambitious,  and  the  mother  did 
what  she  could  to  foster  her  love  of  learning.  There 
was  a  private  school,  or  rather  an  academy  in  the 
neighborhood,  but  the  family  income  was  too  small 
for  the  girl  to  avail  herself  of  it. 

The  time  came,  when  though  a  mere  child,  Miss 
Abigail  was  thought  competent  to  teach  the  summer 
village  school.  With  the  money  she  earned  she  was 
able  to  gratify  her  eager  longing  to  go  to  the  academy 
in  winter.  She  made  such  wonderful  progress,  that 
she  was  soon  fitted  for  a  higher  position,  and  able  to 
assist  in  the  support  of  the  family.  When  she  was 
twenty-one,  her  mother  married  a  second  time,  and 
she  made  her  home  in  the  family  of  a  dearly  beloved 
friend.  Here  she  met  a  young  man,  more  than  two 

264 


MRS.    FILLMORE.  265 

years  her  junior  ;  his  youth,  too,  had  been  spent  in 
poverty,  and  like  Miss  Abigail,  he  was  a  great  reader 
and  craved  an  education. 

At  fourteen,  he  had  been  bound  out  by  his  father 
to  learn  the  trade  of  a  clothier  and  fuller,  but  every 
spare  moment  was  given  to  books  and  study.  At 
nineteen,  the  date  of  his  acquaintance  with  Miss 
Powers,  he  made  a  fine,  manly  appearance,  was  dig 
nified  and  gentlemanly  beyond  his  years. 

Miss  Powers,  whose  two  years  seniority  made  her 
feel  as  if  she  could  be  his  mentor,  loaned  him  books 
and  rather  directed  his  studies. 

She  was  a  perfect  blonde,  her  skin  of  dazzling 
fairness,  and  luxuriant  auburn  hair  fell  about  her  face 
in  carls  ;  her  person  was  above  middle  height,  and 
her  presence  very  commanding. 

The  boy  at  first  revered  and  then  loved  the  supe 
rior  woman,  who  took  such  an  interest  in  his  studies 
and  his  aspirations.  We  cannot  tell  how  the  wooing 
began  or  went  on,  but  the  end  is  a  matter  of  history. 

There  was  a  lawyer  in  the  town,  who  had  noticed 
the  studious,  hard-working  boy,  and  thought  he  gave 
promise  of  greatness  ;  as  his  means  were  ample  and 
his  heart  large,  he  loaned  him  money  on  easy  terms 
to  buy  his  time  of  his  master,  and  took  him  into  his 
office  to  study  law.  The  boy  was  grateful,  but  the 
debt  sat  heavily  upon  him  ;  he  was  too  manly  to  be  a 
tax  on  any  one.  In  the  winter  months  he  taught 


266  MRS.    FILLMORE. 

school,  did  copying  to  help  himself  along,  and  studied 
nights.  His  progress  was  such,  that  in  two  years, 
his  benefactor  advised  him  to  go  to  Buffalo  for  greater 
advantages.  Ke  walked  there  with  only  four  dollars 
in  his  pocket.  Two  more  years  were  spent  teaching 
by  clay  and  studying  by  night. 

A  red-letter  day  came  in  his  history  when  he  was 
twenty-three.  Though  in  some  way  short  of  the 
usual  requirements,  by  special  favor  he  was  admitted 
to  the  bar. 

For  three  years  he  had  the  uphill  work  which  a 
young  lawyer  usually  has  to  face — work  which, 
through  poverty,  was  never  lightened  by  the  sight 
of  the  woman  he  loved,  though  only  parted  by  one 
hundred  and  fifty  miles  ;  an  ardent  lover  would  have 
walked  it.  Abigail  Powers  and  Millard  Fillmore  were 
true  to  each  other,  but  had  no  romance  in  their  com 
positions,  —  all  their  virtues  were  solid  ;  were  what 
are  called  level-headed.  Pity,  perhaps,  there  are  not 
more  like  them,  even  if  they  do  seem  prosy  and  un 
interesting. 

Used  to  poverty  and  drudgery  all  their  lives,  they 
joined  their  fortunes,  hardly  hoping  for  anything  mere 
than  an  honest  'living,  certainly  never  dreaming  of 
fame. 

When  clients  were  scarce,  Millard  with  his  own 
hands  worked  upon  a  small  frame  house :  when  it 
was  done,  Abigail  did  the  housework,  in  addition 


MRS.     FILLMORE. 

to  the  school  duties,  which  she  had  never  re 
signed. 

She  had  helped  her  husband  up,  and  her  intellec 
tual  strength  was,  even  now,  his  chief  stimulus. 

Without  a  particle  of  brilliancy,  his  integrity  and 
untiring  industry  perhaps  stood  him  in  better  stead 
and  carried  him  on  to  fame.  A  Buffalo  lawyer, 
crowded  with  clients,  offered  him  a  partnership. 
Thither  he  took  his  wife,  and  there  a  son  and  a 
daughter  were  born  to  them.  Increasing  prosperity, 
freedom  from  debt,  and  the  polished,  cultivated  so 
ciety,  to  which  she  had  been  unused,  made  life  very 
charming  to  Mrs.  Fillmore. 

Mr.  Fillmore  was  chosen  a  member  of  the  State 
Legislature.  His  politics  were  rather  lukewarm,  but 
he  cast  his  vote  with  the  Whigs.  What  little  of  the 
lion  there  was  in  him  was  roused  by  the  bill  for  abol 
ishing  imprisonment  for  debt.  He  brought  all  his 
legal  acumen  to  bear  upon  it,  and  spoke  with  a  gleam 
of  eloquence. 

After  serving  the  State  for  three  years,  he  was 
elected  to  Congress.  He  made  his  dcbtit  in  the  year, 
that  South  Carolina  declared  the  tariff  null  and  void, 
and  advised  by  her  great  leader,  threatened  to  leave 
the  Union.  Jackson,  foaming  at  the  mouth,  was 
storming  about  like  a  roaring  lion,  vowing  he  would 
hang  every  senator  from  the  State  (always  sorry  that 
he  didn't).  Webster  was  battling  secession,  on  the 


268  MRS.    FILLMORE. 

floor  of  the  Senate,  with  Hayne.  The  Kentucky 
giant  was  putting  aside  his  chances  for  the  presi 
dency,  which  no  man  ever  coveted  more,  nobly  say 
ing;,  "  I  would  rather  be  right  than  be  President," 
and  manufacturing  his  wonderful  cement  to  pour 
upon  the  cracks  in  the  Union,  which  brought  order 
out  of  confusion  and  quiet  out  of  din.  Fillmore's 
strong,  good  sense  taught  him  that  it  would  be  un 
becoming  for  a  new  and  a  lesser  light  to  open  his 
mouth,  and  with  wonder  he  watched  the  course  of 
affairs,  and  in  silence  gave  his  vote. 

General  Taylor's*  military  record  had  tossed  him 
on  the  highest  wave  of  popularity,  and  the  politicians 
thought  that  the  tide  would  sweep  him  into  the 
seat  of  the  chief  magistrate.  He  knew  nothing  of 
statesmanship,  had  had  no  interest  in  politics,  had 
not  even  voted  for  forty  years,  held  slaves,  which 
raised  such  a  din  among  the  Abolitionists  that  it 
split  the  party  —  was  only  a  soldier  whose  prowess 
had  added  lustre  to  our  arms,  had  enlarged  our  ter 
ritory,  and  opened  to  us  a  mine  of  wealth,  and  was 
an  honest  man;  not  that  this  latter  quality  was 
a  recommendation,  but  rather  a  stumbling-block 
to  the  politicians  ;  however,  they  were  adepts  in 
the  potter's  craft,  and  thought  his  simplicity  and 
ignorance  would  combine  to  make  the  most  malle- 

£•> 

able  of  clay.     Well,  they  counted  without  their  host. 
With   this  peculiar  candidate,  it  was  thought  wise 


MRS.    FILLMORE.  269 

to  have  in  the  second  place  a  man  who  had  heard  of 
Coke  and  Littleton,  and  it  was  also  wise  to  please 
the  Empire  State,  by  choosing  one  of  her  sons. 
They  were  a  little  more  wary  in  their  selection  than 
when  they  tacked  Tyler  to  Tippecanoe.  The  solid 
qualities  of  F*illmore  had  no  magnetic  power,  but 
were  a  good  makeweight  to  the  popular  nominee, 
so  the  Whig  banners  were  flung  to  the  breeze,  em 
blazoned  with  the  names  of  Taylor  and  Fillmore. 

The  "  Little  Magician  "  had  lost  his  cunning,  and 
couldn't  pull  the  wires  into  shape  for  the  Free 
Soilers ;  Cass,  the  Southern  nominee,  was  nowhere. 
The  Whig  ticket  triumphed. 

It  did  seem  as  if  Pandora's  box  had  been  opened 
and  that,  for  the  first  time,  even  Hope  had  escaped. 

Mr.  Fillmore  succeeded  Calhoun  as  President  of 
the  Senate.  If  he  had  not  Calhoun's  brains,  he  was 
younger,  had  a  splendid  presence,  and  then  he  had 
a  finer  sense  of  the  dignity  of  the  place.  Calhoun  had 
claimed  that  when  the  senators  lost  their  tempers 
and  vented  their  wrath  upon  each  other  in  abusive 
language,  the  chair  had  no  right  to  interfere,  but 
Fillmore  claimed  that  he  had  that  right  and  would 
use  it,  if  he  had  to  reverse  the  whole  order  of  things. 
In  cool  blood,  the  senators  felt  that  he  was  right,  and 
they  approved  and  endorsed  him. 

In  sixteen  months  the  politicans  had  paved  the 
way  for  the  second  to  become  the  first. 


2/O  MRS.    FJLLMORE. 

Mrs.  Fillmore,  like  Mrs.  Taylor,  shrank  from  the 
social  duties  of  her  position  ;  was  reserved  in  her 
intercourse  with  strangers.  She  would  preside  at  a 
state  dinner,  but  like  Mrs.  Taylor,  she  had  a  daughter 
whom  she  too,  pressed  to  the  front. 

Miss  Mary  Abigail  Fillmore  had  been  even  a  more 
precocious  child  than  her  mother,  —  had  all  the  practi 
cal,  solid  qualities  of  both  her  parents.  Born  in  Buf 
falo,  after  her  father's  prosperity  and  public  life  began, 
she  had  every  advantage ;  was  subjected  in  child 
hood  to  the  excellent  drill  of  the  public  schools ; 
later,  private  tutors  were  employed  for  the  higher 
branches,  music,  drawing,  and  the  languages.  To 
finish  her  off,  she  was  sent  to  Mrs.  Sedgwick's  famous 
boarding-school  at  Lenox,  was  a  classmate  and  friend 
of  Miss  Harriet  Hosmer,  and  at  that  time  showed  as 
much  taste  and  talent  for  sculpture  as  Miss  Hosmer 
herself.  There  was  no  frivolity  about  her ;  when 
only  seventeen,  she  had  mature  views  on  the  subject 
of  self-reliance,  independence,  and  woman's  ability  to 
earn  her  own  living.  That  she  might  earn  hers  she 
proposed  to  fit  herself  to  be  a  teacher,  and  that  she 
might  teach  according  to  rule,  she  would  go  to  the 
State  Normal  School.  They  would  only  admit  her 
upon  the  pledge  that  she  would  use  her  knowledge 
for  a  stated  period  in  the  service  of  the  State. 
Though  her  father  was  vice-president  of  the  United 
States,  she  served  her  time,  and,  to  fulfil  her  con- 


MRS.    FILLMORE.  27! 

tract,  took  a  position  in  one  of  the  public  schools  of 
Buffalo. 

When  General  Taylor  died,  the  State  waived  its 
right  to  the  services  of  a  daughter  of  the  President 
of  the  United  States,  and  she  joined  her  mother  at 
Washington.  At  the  time,  Mrs.  Fillmore  was  in 
mourning  for  her  sister,  when  that  was  over  she 
sprained  her  ankle,  and  as  she  had  no  inclination  or 
qualification  to  be  a  society  leader  she  leaned  upon 
her  self-reliant  daughter.  The  girl  of  eighteen 
seemed  older  than  Miss  Betty,  who  was  five  years 
her  senior.  She  could  speak  French  with  the  accent 
of  a  native  Parisian,  had  marvellous  skill  upon  the 
piano  and  harp,  and  private  musical  soirees  were 
among  the  chief  pleasures  of  the  family. 

With  the  exception  of  the  wives  of  the  two 
Adamses  there  had  been  no  literary  or  learned 
women  in  the  White  House.  The  first  had  lived  in 
the  day  of  small  things  and  had  found  it  difficult  to 
get  wood  to  heat,  or  candles  to  light  the  nation's 
mansion,  — would  as  soon  have  thought  of  asking  for 
the  moon  as  for  a  library. 

The  second  Mrs.  Adams  had  brought  and  taken 
away  what  was  needed  for  her  mental  refreshment. 
When  the  Fillmores  came,  there  was  a  Bible,  and 
almost  literally  nothing  more.  Mrs.  Fillmore  and 
Miss  Mary  Abigail  had  been  used  to  maps,  encylo- 
paedias,  dictionaries,  everything  that  makes  a  well- 


2/2  MRS.    FILLMORE. 

stocked  library,  and  of  turning  to  them  every  hour  of 
the  day.  The  place  seemed  like  an  arid  desert.  To 
remedy  this,  the  President  asked  an  appropriation  of 
Congress,  which  was  granted. 

The  ladies  selected  the  books  and  placed  them  in 
the  oval  room  upstairs,  with  Miss  Mary's  harp  and 
piano.  One  room,  at  least,  was  like  home.  Once  a 
week  there  was  a  morning  reception,  an  evening 
levee,  a  state  dinner,  and  sometimes  two  ;  if  more 
were  done,  it  was  in  the  form  of  little  private  musical 
parties  for  their  own  pleasure  ;  these,  Mrs.  Fillmore 
enjoyed. 

The  political  contest  waxed  fiercer  and  fiercer  ; 
Calhoun  had  died,  but  South  Carolina  was  as  high 
and  mighty  without  him  as  with  him.  The  rampant 
Abolitionists  of  the  North  were  enough  to  try  the 
temper  of  all  the  saints  in  the  calendar  (the  South 
erners  were  no  saints)  ;  they  didn't  inherit  slaves, 
didn't  own  slaves,  so  they  stood  throwing  stones  at 
those  who  did. 

What  still  more  exasperated  the  South  was  that 
George  Thompson,  termed  an  English  philanthropist, 
finding  no  zvrongs  to  redress  at  home,  had  come  to 
America  and  was  welcomed  by  the  Yankees,  and  his 
object  was  to  overthrow  the  peculiar  institution  of 
the  South,  where  he  was  dubbed  as  the  "  foreign 
hireling." 

Patriots    and    statesmen   were  at    their   wits'  end. 


MRS.    FILLMORE.  2/3 

Again  Clay  came  to  the  front  with  his  wonderful 
cement  and  tided  us  over ;  coiled  bands  about  the 
Union,  that  held  it  through  another  decade,  but  the 
process  almost  rent  the  land  in  twain  ;  each  measure 
had  to  be  haggled  over,  and  each  settled  separately. 
Clay  counted  them  off  upon  the  fingers  of  his  left 
hand  as  the  five  bleeding  wounds  of  the  nation, 
Benton  sarcastically  saying,  that  there  would  be  more 
bleeding  wounds  if  Clay  had  had  more  fingers  ;  the 
great  Pacificator  was  almost  at  his  last  gasp,  yet 
never  so  grand  as  when  he  fought  through  the 
"  Omnibus  Bill"  to  save  the  Union,  which  proved 
after  all  only  a  temporary  truce. 

California's  star  floated  in  the  blue,  free,  as  her 
people  vowed  from  the  first  that  it  should. 

To  appease  the  South  for  the  loss  of  something 
which  she  claimed  as  her  right,  the  Fugitive  Slave 
Law  was  passed.  The  Abolitionists  and  a  good  many 
beside,  just  howled.  Fillmore  was  cold-blooded  and 
cold-hearted  — had  no  sentiment  with  which  to  con 
tend,  yet  he  had  no  special  liking  for  the  business  of 
returning  runaway  slaves  to  their  masters,  but  that  it 
should  be  done  by  United  States  troops,  if  need  were, 
was  a  law  of  the  land,  and  he  had  sworn  to  execute 
the  laws,  and  execute  them  he  would  and  he  did. 

One  display  of  his  power  was  made  in  Boston.  A 
"man  hunter"  as  he  was  called,  had  come  to  the 
North  and  a  fugitive  slave  named  Shadrach  had  been 


274  MRS.    FILLMORE. 

caught  and  while  under  examination  in  the  court 
room  had  been  forcibly  taken,  by  a  crowd  of  his  own 
race,  from  the  hands  of  the  deputy  marshal  of  the 
United  States.  Had  every  white  man  in  Massachu 
setts  taken  arms  and  marched  upon  the  South  there 
could  not  have  been  more  excitement  nor  indigna 
tion.  The  President  called  upon  the  civil  and  military 
power  —  upon  all  good  citizens  of  the  Free  States  — 
to  assist  in  enforcing  the  law,  and  asked  of  Congress 
more  extensive  power  in  calling  out  the  militia. 

It  did  seem  as  if  the  South  might  have  kept  quiet, 
while  the  President  of  the  United  States,  with  an 
army  at  his  back,  was  battling  for  their  rights,  making 
sure  that  they  should  have  justice,  if  it  were  justice, 
meted  out  to  them. 

Toombs,  in  triumph  said,  the  day  would  come 
when  he  would  call  the  roll  of  his  slaves  from  Bunker 
Hill  Monument.  The  Abolitionists,  roused  to  fury, 
nerved  by  thinking  that  they  were  doing  God's  service, 
declared  that  there  was  a  higher  law  than  that  made 
in  Washington,  so,  as  far  as  they  dared,  they  evaded, 
contravened  it,  made  "  underground  railways,"  beck 
oned  slaves  on  and  hustled  them  through.  Many  of 
these  law-breakers  were  of  the  stock  from  which  the 
martyrs  were  made  and  would  have  died  for  their 
principles  a  martyr's  death.  The  siege  lasted  as 
long  as  that  of  old  Troy  —  then  "  Liberty  and  Union  " 
were  (but  not  forever),  two  and  separable. 


MRS.     FILLMORE.  2/5 

After  the  hearty  meal  off  of  Mexican  spoils,  which 
to  be  sure  had  been  but  ashes  in  their  mouths,  the 
South  thought  Cuba  would  be  but  a  bon-bon,  and 
she  would  like  the  merit  of  taking  it.  Fillmore 
afterwards  avowed  that  he  thought  it  to  be  the 
"manifest  destiny  of  our  government  to  embrace  the 
whole  of  the  North  American  Continent,"  but  so 
long  as  he  represented  the  majesty  of  the  United 
States,  he  was  as  strong  against  stealing  Cuba,  as  he 
had  been  in  the  rendition  of  slaves. 

Somehow,  through  the  connivance  of  the  collector 
of  New  Orleans,  an  armed  force  got  away,  led  by 
Lopez,  a  Venezuelan.  Had  he  been  a  native  of  the 
United  States  and  succeeded,  he  would  probably 
have  ridden  in  a  triumphal  chariot  right  into  the 
Executive  Mansion.  As  it  was,  he  was  garroted, 
and  nobody  pitied  him.  Those  who  were  not  gar 
roted  were  taken  to  Spain  and  tasted  the  quality  of 
Spanish  prisons.  When  Spanish  wrath  cooled,  they 
were  released,  and  the  United  States  government 
paid  their  passage  home. 

The  great  Hungarian,  Kossuth,  came  to  America 
in  Fillmore's  reign,  and  pleaded  the  cause  of  his  coun 
try.  The  President  gave  him  a  welcome  and  a  piece 
of  his  heart,  but  was  as  true  as  steel  to  his  oath. 
The  patriot  won  the  people's  sympathies,  and  when 
he  issued  dollar-bonds  which  he  pledged  himself  to 
redeem  when  Hungary  was  free,  thousands  took 


276  MRS.    FILLMORE. 

them,  hardly  looking  for  their  redemption,  but  rather 
as  souvenirs  of  the  illustrious  guest. 

Calhoun,  Clay,  and  Webster  had  died  since  the 
election  of  Taylor  and  Fillmore,  and  the  nation 
mourned  as  if  its  greatness  had  passed  away. 

Mr.  Fillmore  had  the  honor  of  sending  Perry  on 
the  famous  expedition  to  Japan,  opening  the  ports  of 
that  mysterious  land  for  the  first  time. 

Since,  the  Mikado,  whose  face  could  not  then  be 
looked  upon  by  his  own  nobles,  has  shaken  hands 
with  an  ex-President  of  the  United  States.  Verily, 
times  are  not  as  they  were. 

It  is  customary  for  a  retiring  President  to  leave 
the  Executive  Mansion  before  his  successor  comes, 
but  Mrs.  Fillmore,  with  rare  delicacy  and  a  woman's 
sympathy,  remained  to  give  a  welcome  and  smooth 
the  way  for  her  heart-broken  successor,  Mrs.  Pierce. 

The  Fillmores  went  to  Willard's  Hotel,  intending 
to  go  on  a  tour  through  the  Southern  states  before 
returning  to  Buffalo,  but  Mrs.  Fillmore  fell  ill,  and 
died  before  the  month  closed. 

For  a  year  Miss  Mary  presided  over  her  father's 
house.  At  the  home  of  her  grandmother,  where  she 
had  gone  for  a  short  visit,  she  died  of  cholera,  so 
suddenly,  that  all  was  over  before  her  father  and 
brother  could  reach  her,  though  they  were  but 
twenty  miles  away. 

The  presidency  seems  shorn  of  its  honors,  when  it 


MRS.    FILLMORE. 

comes  from  the  death  of  the  chosen  man,  and  Mr. 
Fillmore  had  a  strong  ambition  for  the  real  thing. 
Twice  he  was  nominated,  but  signally  failed.  To 
secure  a  second  term,  it  was  said  that  he  used  the 
patronage  of  the  Federal  government,  but  there 
seemed  to  be  no  magnetism  in  the  man.  Few 
doubted  the  purity  or  the  sincerity  of  his  inten 
tions  in  performing  the  duties  of  his  administration. 
He  left,  with  the  country  at  peace  and  prosperous, 
yet,  history  rather  stamps  his  term  as  inglorious,  if 
not  a  failure,  and  the  ladies  were  no  social  success. 
The  carnage  and  horses  presented  by  friends  were 
sold  and  converted  into  a  silver  service. 

He  was  enthusiastically  received  in  a  tour  through 
the  Southern  states,  on  account  of  his  action  in  the 
rendition  of  slaves;  and  in  the  presidential  campaign 
that  section  had  given  him  her  entire  strength. 

Two  years  later  he  travelled  in  Europe, — was  at 
Rome,  when  his  name  was  placed  at  the  head  of  the 
Know-Nothing  ticket. 

In  1858,  he  married  Mrs.  Caroline  Mclntosh,  of 
Albany,  a  lady  of  culture  and  great  wealth. 

He  took  no  very  decided  stand  in  the  Civil  War, 
—  was  rather  classed  among  the  Copperheads. 

He  died  in  March,  1874,  in  his  seventy-fifth  year. 


MRS.   PIERCE. 

Miss  JANE  A  PLETON  was  the  daughter  of  the 
Rev.  Jesse  Appleton,  D.D.,  President  of  Bowdoin 
College.  She  was  reared  in  a  home  of  perfect  re 
finement,  and  in  no  town  of  New  England  is  there 
more  cultured  society  than  in  Brunswick,  or  greater 
advantages  for  education. 

She  was  born  physically  delicate,  and  her  mental 
structure  was  of  the  finest  sort.  As  one  reads  what 
little  is  known  of  her,  it  seems  as  if  she  were  too 
fine  for  the  roughness  of  this  world  ;  was  better  fitted 
for  the  days  when  Eve  innocently  roamed  the  Garden 
of  Eden  —  before  the  serpent  had  asked  her  to  eat  an 
apple.  If  she  had  faults  and  frailties,  they  have  not 
come  down  in  history  ;  she  is  always  spoken  of  as 
one  altogether  lovely  —  one  to  be  loved  at  home  ;  yet, 
she  made  no  special  impress  upon  society,  and  was 
too  sensitive  and  shrinking  for  hef  own  happiness. 

If  one  inquire  about  her  in  Concord,  where  she 
spent  most  of  her  married  life,  they  can  only  tell  you 
that  she  had  the  name  of  being  a  very  refined,  quiet 
woman,  rather  shunning  society  ;  one  says  that  she 
had  rare  beauty  and  many  accomplishments.  What 
ever  she  was,  she  won  the  love  of  one  of  the  most 

278 


MRS.    PIERCE.  279 

fascinating  of  men,  and  his  devotion  and  tenderness 
never  wavered. 

Franklin  Pierce  was  the  son  of  a  prominent  New 
Hampshire  man,  one  who  served  his  state  in  many 
important  offices,  rising  even  to  the  highest.  The 
boy  was  the  sixth  of  a  large  family  of  children.  He 
was  a  bright,  handsome  lad,  a  favorite  of  every  one 
with  whom  he  came  in  contact  ;  one  who  had  a  per 
fect  physical  and  mental  development,  —  not  preco 
cious,  but  a  good  scholar.  At  sixteen,  he  entered 
Bowdoin  ;  was  a  classmate  and  friend  of  Nathaniel 
Hawthorne,  who  wrote  his  life,  and  recorded  that 
his  most  notable  characteristic  was  a  "fascination 
of  manner,  which  has  proved  so  magical  in  winning 
him  unbounded  popularity." 

It  was  at  Brunswick,  while  in  college,  that  he  met 
and  loved  Miss  Appleton. 

Upon  graduating,  he  began  the  study  pf  law  at 
Portsmouth,  in  the  office  of  Judge  Woodbury,  one  of 
the  finest  lawyers  of  New  Hampshire.  He  inherited 
Democracy  from  his  father,  and  dashed  into  politics 
before  he  could  vote.  He  would  hurrah  for  Jackson 
with  the  loudest,  yet  was  as  strong  on  States  Rights 
as  Calhoun  himself. 

He  settled  in  his  native  town,  Hillsborough,  and 
gave  no  promise  of  leg  .1  ability.  His  first  appear 
ance  as  a  pleader  was  a  failure,  but  it  only  incited 
him  to  redoubled  perseverance  and  determination. 


28O  MRS.    PIERCE. 

That  he  became  a  successful  lawyer  was  due  to  his 
identifying  himself  with  his  clients,  and  a  strong, 
magnetic  influence  with  the  jury. 

He  was  chosen  State  Representative,  and  soon 
Speaker  of  the  House.  He  was  as  popular  as  a  man 
as  he  had  been  as  a  boy.  The  state  elected  him  to 
the  lower  house  in  Congress.  He  was  hand  in  glove 
with  Jackson,  and  became  an  especial  favorite  with 
him.  In  1834,  he  made  Miss  Appleton  his, wife. 

Five  years  later,  during  the  presidency  of  Van 
Buren,  he  was  elected  to  the  Senate,  being  the 
youngest  member  of  that  body.  He  was  a  ready, 
graceful  speaker,  but  in  that  august  company,  made 
up  of  giants,  he  rarely  spoke,  but  when  he  did,  he 
won  attention. 

In  1838,  he  removed  to  Concord,  and  practised  his 
profession  with  great  success.  When  Mr.  Polk 
came  into  power,  he  offered  him  the  office  of 
Attorney-General ;  but  business,  his  wife's  health, 
and  her  dislike  to  Washington  life,  led  him  to  de 
cline  the  honor.  He  was  also  about  the  same  time 
offered  the  democratic  nomination  for  governor;  this 
too  he  declined,  determined  to  attend  to  his  profes 
sion  and  secure  a  competency  for  the  coming  years ; 
politics  were  far  from  being  profitable. 

He  had  been  the  father  of  three  tsons,  but  two 
died  in  infancy.  Mrs.  Pierce  was  prone  to  melan 
choly.  She  could  always  see  a  mirage,  made  up  of 


.     MRS.    PIERCE.  28l 

bridges  ;  no  powers  of  persuasion  could  turn  her 
feet  ;  she  must  cross  them  all,  and  you  may  be 
sure  that  she  never  boiled  the  peas  with  which 
she  filled  her  shoes.  That  this  gay,  social,  hail- 
fellow-well-met  Frank  Pierce  was  a  volume  of 
tenderness  to  this  quiet,  low-spirited  woman, 
is  a  proof  of  the  saying,  that  people  like  their 
opposites. 

Unseen  forces  were  building  a  bridge  which  never 
had  shape  in  her  mirage,  but  which  she  must  cross, 
whether  she  will  or  no.  But  then,  there  is  little 
difference  between  a  real  or  an  imaginary  bridge, 
indeed,  people  often  seem  braver  in  crossing  tangible 
ones;  they  can  set  their  feet  down  solid,  \\hich  gives 
them  a  sense  of  security.  Quiet,  country-home  life, 
with  the  husband  and  son  whom  she  adored  seemed 
to  stretch  out  before  her.  The  very  word  politics 
grated  on  her  over-attuned  ears,  and  to  her  husband 
it  was  the  most  fascinating,  all-engrossing  subject  in 
the  world,  especially  now  that  the  sectional  strife 
was  waxing  hotter  and  hotter.  Pie  went  all  lengths 
in  his  democracy,  was  more  of  a  slavery  man  than 
the  slaveholders  themselves.  Northern  Democrats 
deplored  slavery,  but  failed  to  see  how  it  could  be 
gotten  rid  of,  and  were  in  sympathy  with  those  who 
were  born  to  the  curse  of  it  ;  he  talked  as  if  it  were 
no  blot  on  our  escutcheon,  but  the  talk  was  never  in 
the  presence  of  his  sensitive  wife.  If  guests  came, 


282  MRS.    PIERCE 

he  curbed  his  tongue  and  managed  to  curb  theirs, 
until  they  were  in  his  private  quarters. 

Mr.  Polk  and  his  supporters  were  the  architects  of 
the  new,  solidly-built  bridge,  o'erlaid  with  pointed 
pebbles,  over  which  so  many  bleeding  hearts,  if  not 
bleeding  feet,  were  to  pass. 

At  the  very  first  hint  of  picking  a  quarrel  with 
Mexico  and  enlarging  Southern  States  for  the  benefit 
of  their  peculiar  institution,  Frank  Pierce  sprang  to 
his  feet.  He  could  love  like  a  woman,  and  act  like  a 
man  ;  could  kiss  away  the  tears  of  his  half-ethereal 
wife,  unclasp  her  clinging  arms,  put  her,  fainting, 
from  him  and  march  forth  to  do  what  he  thought 
to  be  duty ;  mistaken  duty,  most  New  Englanders 
thought. 

He  enlisted  as  a  simple  volunteer  soldier,  showing 
the  sincerity  of  his  motives.  He  was  too  much  of  a 
man  to  be  left  in  the  ranks,  was  soon  made  colonel, 
and  then  raised  to  the  rank  of  brigadier-general. 
He  distinguished  himself  for  his  bravery  —  always 
distinguished  himself  in  whatever  he  had  to  do. 

His  brigade  of  twenty-four  hundred  men,  was  to 
reenforce  General  Scott.  He  rode  under  the  burn 
ing  summer  sun,  always  gay,  the  idol  of  his  men  ; 
there  seemed  to  be  a  sort  of  magnetism  about  the 
man,  which  drew  all  hearts  toward  him. 

No  dangers  or  difficulties  daunted  him.  Once, 
when  his  little  army  was  on  the  heels  of  the  Mexi- 


MRS.    PIERCE.  283 

cans,  they  came  to  a  bridge,  a  magnificient  structure, 
built  by  the  old  Spaniards;  to  their  dismay,  they 
found  the  centre  arch  blown  away.  All  but  the 
general  were  despondent ;  there  must  be  some  way 
out  of  it,  he  was  sure.  He  summoned  to  his  aid  a 
Maine  lumberman,  skilled  in  all  sorts  of  mechanical 
contrivances,  who  assured  him  that  in  four  hours 
time,  he  could  make  a  road  over  which  the  artillery 
and  wagons  could  pass,  provided  he  had  men  enough. 
Five  hundred,  his  number,  were  detailed  and  before 
night  the  passage  was  made. 

How  little  the  Mexicans  knew  of  the  versatility  of 
talent  among  Yankees,  when  they  sacrificed  their 
splendid  bridge  ! 

The  march  to  General  Scott's  headquarters  began 
the  28th  of  June  and  ended  the  7th  of  August. 

Once,  Pierce  was  thrown  by  the  stumbling  of  his 
horse,  badly  sprained  his  knee,  and  besides  was 
severely  bruised.  As  soon  as  he  had  recovered  full 
consciousness,  and  his  knee  had  been  bound  up  by 
the  surgeon,  he  insisted,  contrary  to  all  advice,  that 
he  must  be  mounted  and  follow  his  men. 

"  But,  general,  you  cannot  keep  your  seat,"  said 
the  surgeon.  "Then  tie  me  on,"  was  the  undaunted 
reply.  In  the  agony  of  a  fresh  sprain,  away  he  rode 
like  the  wind  ;  he  must  and  would  be  at  the  front, 
where  the  bullets  were  thickest.  His  nerve  and  will 
carried  him  through. 


284  MRS.    PIERCE. 

At  midnight  in  a  drenching,  tropical  rain,  upon  an 
ammunition  wagon,  he  took  his  first  rest.  Pain 
overcame  weariness ;  sleep  shortened  none  of  the 
minutes  of  the  miserable  night. 

General  Scott  sent  orders  for  an  immediate  ad 
vance,  and  long  before  sunrise  the  dauntless  man 
was  again  in  the  saddle.  An  assault  was  successful 
in  seventeen  minutes,  but  the  pursuit  ksted  until 
past  noon,  and  General  Pierce  led  the  advance. 

General  Scott  wished  to  give  him  personal  orders 
to  attack  Santa  Anna  in  the  rear.  The  appearance 
of  the  man  made  him  alter  his  mind,  but  General 
Pierce  begged  it  as  a  boon,  that  he  might  be  the  one 
to  go.  "Why  man,  you  can't  touch  your  foot  to  the 
stirrup,"  said  Scott.  "One  I  can,"  was  the  answer. 
The  flashing  of  the  eyes  told  what  the  man  could 
dare  and  do,  and  as  the  best  cannot  be  spared  in 
war,  he  was  allowed  to  go. 

Over  ditches  and  chasms  he  leaped  his  horse,  until 
one  opened  too  wide  for  the  attempt ;  upon  hands 
and  knees  he  crossed  it.  Mind  and  matter  had 
struggled  ;  but  at  last,  nature  conquered,  he  sank 
helpless  upon  the  field.  His  men  would  have  borne 
him  away,  but  the  heroic  spirit  was  not  conquered  ; 
he  would  lie  where  he  could  watch  the  progress  of 
the  battle. 

When  the  shouts  of  victory  came  from  his  troops, 
he  was  placed  upon  a  horse  and  rode  to  meet  Santa 


MRS.    PIERCE.  285 

Anna,  who  had  asked  for  a  conference,  which  lasted 
until  four  in  the  morning. 

General  Pierce  took  part  in  one  more  conflict ;  but 
at  the  final  one,  when  the  city  of  Mexico  fell  into  our 
hands,  he  was  so  ill  that  he  was  confined  to  his  bed. 

Nine  months  from  the  time  that  he  sailed  away, 
he  was  in  his  home  at  Concord,  folding  wife  and  boy 
in  his  arms. 

Mrs.  Pierce  had  not  died,  as  she  said  that  she 
should.  She  had  given  way  to  tremors  when  the 
Mexican  mail  came  in,  had  had  many  funerals,  and 
had  taken  many  walks  to  the  churchyard  behind  her 
husband's  body,  but  they  had  not  told  upon  her 
health  nor  very  seriously  impaired  her  spirits.  Had 
he  been  at  home,  she  would  have  passed  sleepless 
nights,  lest  he  should  drink  an  extra  glass  of  wine, 
and  if  truth  must  be  told,  he  sometimes  did,  for  he 
was  a  convivial  man,  liked  a  social  drink,  though  no 
low  lover  of  liquor. 

Then  he  settled  down  again  to  his  profession  ;  he 
had  manfully  done  his  share  in  public  duties,  and  he 
gloried  in  the  result. 

Man  proposes  for  himself,  but  if  one  enter  the 
arena,  which  he  did,  politicians  dispose. 

In  1852,  the  Democrats  met  at  Baltimore  to  settle 
upon  the  name  to  be  put  upon  their  presidential 
ticket.  It  was  supposed  that  the  choice  would  rest 
upon  one  of  four  prominent  men  ;  Buchanan,  Macy, 


286  MRS.    PIERCE. 

Cass,  or  Douglas.  The  balloting  oegan,  and  went 
on  for  three  days  until  it  reached  the  thirty-fifth 
ballot,  and  they  seemed  no  nearer  a  choice  than 
when  they  began.  Delegates  from  Virginia  whis 
pered  together,  and  then  for  the  second  time  in  our 
history  a  "dark  horse"  was  led  out.  At  first,  there 
seemed  to  be  no  one  to  drive  him  to  the  front. 
Another  day  the  balloting  went  slowly  on ;  each 
time  he  made  a  step  forward,  and  at  the  forty-ninth 
ballot,  Franklin  Pierce,  the  "  Northern  man  with 
Southern  principles,"  was  the  Democratic  nominee 
for  the  presidency  of  the  United  States. 

Americans,  Europeans,  and  the  man  himself  were 
astonished.  In  some  sections,  a  question  similar  to 
the  one  in  Folk's  day  was  asked,  "  Who  is  Frank 
Pierce  ? " 

A  stranger  in  New  Hampshire  asked  of  his  land 
lord,  at  a  village  inn  :  "  What  sort  of  a  man  is 
General  Pierce?"  '^Wall,  up  here,  where  every 
body  knows  Frank  Pierce,  and  where  Frank  Pierce 
knows  everybody,  he's  a  pretty  considerable  fellow, 
I  tell  you.  But  come  to  spread  him  out  over  this 
whole  country,  I'm  afraid  that  he'll  be  dreadful  thin 
in  some  places." 

General  Scott,  who  had  fought  in  Mexico  because 
he  was  ordered  to  do  so  ;  General  Pierce,  the  dash 
ing  volunteer,  and  John  P.  Hale  were  opposing  can 
didates. 


MRS.    PIERCE.  287 

New  England  was  proud  of  her  gallant  son,  and 
with  the  exception  of  Massachusetts  and  Vermont, 
gave  him  her  electoral  votes.  He  was  elected  by  a 
large  majority. 

Mrs.  Pierce  was  keenly  alive  to  the  honor  con 
ferred  upon  her  husband,  and  the  prestige  it  would 
bestow  upon  her  son.  Inwardly  shrinking  for  her 
self,  she  could  smile  and  even  beam  upon  the  con 
gratulations  pouring  in  from  every  quarter. 

To  be  sure,  she  still  crossed  bridges,  but  they 
seemed  farther  apart,  and  the  peas  by  constant  use 
were  a  little  flattened. 

The  house  was  gay  with  visitors,  and  if  the  presi 
dent-elect  with  his  family  went  from  home,  people 
vied  with  one  another  to  do  them  honor. 

In  the  midst  of  their  triumph  a  blow  was  to  be 
dealt  to  them,  from  which  neither  could  ever  recover 
to  their  life's  end,  something  more  horrible  than  Mrs. 
Pierce's  darkest  forebodings  had  ever  fashioned. 

In  January,  the  general,  Mrs.  Pierce,  and  their 
son,  a  bold,  handsome  lad  of  thirteen  years,  visited 
Boston,  to  be  feted  by  their  friends  and  make  pur 
chases  for  the  Washington  life.  On  their  return, 
between  Lawrence  and  Andover,  the  passengers  felt 
a  vibrating  motion  ;  it  is  said,  that  one  never  mis 
takes  its  meaning,  even  though  it  may  be  a  first  expe 
rience.  An  axle  had  broken,  and  in  a  moment  the 
cars  were  turning  over  down  an  embankment.  Gen- 


288  MRS.    PIERCE. 

eral  Pierce  was  bruised  and  sadly  shaken  up,  but  the 
thought  of  his  loved  ones  cleared  his  brains.  He 
took  his  wife  in  his  arms  and  placed  her  on  the 
ground,  then  staggered  back  for  his  boy.  It  seemed 
as  if  God  had  no  pity  !  There  lay  his  only  son,  his 
head  crushed,  his  brains  in  his  cap.  Even  then,  the 
man  thought  more  of  what  it  would  be  to  the  mother, 
than  of  his  own  grief.  None  should  tell  her  but 
himself,  with  his  arms  tightly  clasped  around  her. 

Not  another  passenger  was  seriously  injured. 
Every  heart  in  the  nation  thrilled  with  sympathy  for 
the  bereaved  parents. 

The  Concord  home  was  a  quiet  closed  house  now. 

As  the  Fourth  of  March  approached,  Mrs.  Pierce 
nerved  herself  for  her  duties,  determined  to  hide  her 
private  sorrow,  even  if  it  ate  out  her  heart.  If  a 
reception  or  a  levee  were  to  be  held  or  a  dinner-party 
given,  she  was  usually  at  her  place,  and  her  quiet, 
refined  courtesy  never  failed.  Having  never  risen  to 
the  level  of  cheerfulness,  it  could  not  be  expected 
that  now,  saddened  by  the  loss  of  her  darling,  she 
would  take  any  social  stand. 

Out  of  the  mirage  loomed  another  bridge,  and 
over  it  and  over  it  she  walked  ;  it  seemed  harder  and 
more  pebbly  than  any  before,  inasmuch  as  it  was  con 
nected  with  disgrace.  In  the  seclusion  of  country 
life,  her  husband  had  more  than  once  shown  himself 
intoxicated.  If  the  President  of  the  United  States 


MRS.    PIERCE.  289 

should  so  far  forget  himself,  it  would  be  bruited  from 
north  to  south,  from  east  to  west,  copied  into  foreign 
papers.  With  closed  eyes,  she  could  see  the  flaming 
capitals  with  which  the  disgraceful  fact  would  be 
headed.  Her  purity  and  innate  delicacy  shrank 
from  it,  as  her  flesh  would  from  burning  coals.  Her 
fears  were  groundless.  Frank  Pierce  was  a  perfect 
gentleman,  knew  what  belonged  to  his  high  station, 
and  would  sooner  have  been  drawn  in  quarters  by 
wild  horses  than  have  disgraced  it. 

He  was  said  to  have  been  more  popular  at  Wash 
ington  than  any  other  occupant  of  the  White  House. 
Generous  to  a  fault,  his  hospitality  was  without  stint. 
Cordial  in  his  manners,  his  fascinating  magnetism 
drew  all  hearts  towards  him.  Once  he  entertained 
the  correspondents  of  the  Whig  newspapers  ;  they 
had  rarely  given  him  a  good  word,  but  they  admitted 
that  there  was  never  a  more  genial  host. 

Mrs.  Pierce  never  made  an  enemy,  and  the  general 
was  so  popular  that  their  departure  from  Washington 
was  regretted,  socially,  by  Democrats  and  Whigs. 

His  administration  was  a  stormy  one.  The  gov 
ernment  had  long  before  come  from  the  smooth  lakes 
into  the  rapids  ;  every  year  brought  it  nearer  to  the 
falls,  and  it  would  be  well  if  it  did  not  go  clown  in 
the  whirlpool. 

The  special  feature  of  the  finely  delivered  inaugu 
ral  was  the  support  of  slavery ;  the  president 


2QO  MRS.     PIERCE. 

pfedged  himself  to  enforce  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law, 
which  was  the  keynote  of  his  administration.  He 
had  fought  for  the  South,  and  now  did  what  he  could 
to  conciliate  it. 

The  man  had  gone  who  staunched  the  wounds 
with  his  cement,  which  had  caused  only  a  temporary 
lull  in  the  excitement.  The  Missouri  Compromise 
had  been  broken,  and,  at  the  bidding  of  the  South, 
was  repealed. 

Stephen  A.  Douglas  had  thrown  a  fresh  apple  of 
discord,  in  bringing  forward  a  bill  organizing  the 
Territories  of  Kansas  and  Nebraska,  and  advocating 
what  was  called  "squatter  sovereignty."  Kansas  was 
mainly  settled  by  Northerners,  and  they  were  about 
to  meet,  to  decide  if  the  territory  were  to  be  bond  or 
free,  according  to  the  doctrine  proposed  by  Douglas. 

A  prominent  leader  in  Missouri  said  that  the  Slave 
States  were  brought  to  such  a  pass  that  no  man 
among  them  should  have  any  qualms  of  conscience 
about  violating  law. 

Each  party  had  sent  armed  men  into  the  territory, 
and  amid  lawless  violence  each  party  fought  its  way 
to  the  polls.  There  was  an  appeal  to  Congress,  and 
General  Pierce  ranged  himself  in  favor  of  the  Slave 
States. 

The  expedition  sent  to  Japan  by  Mr.  Fillmore  com 
pleted  its  work  in  General  Pierce's  term. 

He  had  gracefully  made  his  old   military  superior, 


MRS.    PIERCE.  291 

General    Scott,    commander-in-chief   of    the    United 
States  army. 

Trouble  had  risen  again  over  Mexican  boundaries, 
but  this  time,  General  Gadsden,  directed  by  Con 
gress,  amicably  settled  it  by  paying  ten  million  dol 
lars  for  a  strip  of  territory  which  has  ever  since  been 
known  as  the  Gadsden  Purchase. 

As  General  Pierce's  term  drew  to  a  close,  Missouri 
and  Kansas  were  more  turbulent  than  ever,  and  he 
left  the  difficulty  as  a  legacy  to  his  successor. 

He  had  lost  all  his  Northern  support,  and  the 
Southerners  were  ungrateful  and  passed  him  over. 

If  a  President  be  not  elected  for  a  second  er.n,  it 
is  considered  a  reproach  upon  his  policy,  and  Pierce 
was  one  to  feel  the  mortification. 

Mrs.  Pierce  drooped  more  and  more,  and  her  hus 
band  took  her  to  Madeira  for  a  six  months'  sojourn. 
She  rallied  and  they  travelled  for  eighteen  months 
through  the  principal  countries  of  Europe. 
.  She  lingered  on  an  invalid  for  a  few  years  more, 
and  died  of  consumption,  in  1863. 

During  the  Civil  War,  the  Abolitionists  denounced 
General  Pierce  as  a  Copperhead,  and  politically  he 
incurred  a  good  deal  of  obloquy.  At  Concord  he 
made  a  speech  which  was  called  the  "  mausoleum  of 
hearts'  speech." 

Every  drop  of  blood  that  he  inherited  from  his 
father,  who  fought  in  the  Revolution,  every  impulse 


2Q2  MRS.    PIERCE. 

of  his  nature  repelled  the  charge  of  his  being  a 
traitor  to  the  Union. 

To  a  friend  who  had  led  a  portion  of  the  Sixth  Regi 
ment  through  Baltimore,  and  now  stood  in  his  uni 
form  ready  to  go  again  to  the  front,  he  said  :  "  Were 
I  to  offer  my  sword  to  my  country,  the  act  would  be 
maligned,  but  when  I  shall  cease  to  love  and  cherish 
the  Union  of  these  states,  life  will  have  lost  for  me 
all  that  gives  it  any  value.  I  do  not  approve  of  all  of 
the  acts  of  the  administration,  but  if  I  were  situated 
as  you  are  (he  had  a  dying  wife  on  his  hands)  I  would 
do  as  you  have  done  and  as  you  propose  to  do,  and  I 
say,  God  bless  you  and  prosper  you." 

Socially,  he  never  lost  his  popularity ;  he  was 
always  the  genial  host,  generous  neighbor,  and  kind 
'friend.  He  was  a  stanch  member  of  the  Episcopal 
Church. 

He  lived  to  see  the  North  triumph,  slavery  abol 
ished,  the  Union  secure,  and  he  thanked  God  for  it. 

He  died  in  1869,  lamented  by  all  who  personally 
knew  him. 


MISS   LANE. 

THE  successor  of  General  Pierce  was  our  first 
bachelor  President.  To  do  the  social  honors  of  the 
Executive  Mansion,  he  brought  a  young  and  beauti 
ful  girl.  There  is  always  a  charm  in  maidenhood, 
when  combined  with  youth  and  beauty ;  added  to 
these  Miss  Harriet  Lane  had  culture,  learning,  pol 
ished  manners,  high-bred  airs,  tact,  and  winsome 
ways,  alike  to  all  her  uncle's  guests. 

It  is  said,  that  there  are  no  more  beautiful  and 
fascinating  women  in  the  world,  than  the  Irish  of  the 
upper  class.  They  indulge  in  wit  and  gayety,  with  a 
perfect  abandon  that  belongs  to  no  other  nation. 
This  young  girl  had  an  Irish  grandfather  ;  her  mother 
inherited  his  features  and  his  social  qualities,  and  had 
transmitted  them  to  her  daughter,  with  an  infusion 
of  Scotch  blood,  which  made  her  canny  and  true,  and 
of  English  blood,  which  stamped  her  as  a  pure  Anglo- 
Saxon,  united  with  the  indefinable  grace  which 
belongs  to  the  American  girl. 

Her  mother  died  when  she  was  seven,  and  her 
father  two  years  later,  leaving  her  an  ample  fortune 
and  a  host  of  relations.  Many  doors  stood  open  for 

293 


294  MISS    LANE. 

the  orphan,  and  young  as  she  was,  she  was  allowed 
to  choose  which  she  would  enter. 

James  Buchanan  had  never  been  given  to  petting 
or  caring  for  children,  but  there  was  something  in 
his  handsome  face  and  remarkable  presence  that 
took  the  child's  fancy.  She  was  one  of  the  ir 
repressible  sort,  the  very  imp  of  mischief.  She 
reasoned  that  there  were  no  aunts  or  women  in 
Uncle  James's  house,  and  with  the  great  ears  of 
little  pitchers,  she  had  heard  his  sad  love  story, 
which  somehow  made  him  doubly  interesting.  "  I 
will  go  to  Uncle  James,"  was  her  decision.  He  was 
pleased  and  more  than  glad  to  take  this  child  of  his 
favorite  sister  and  train  her  to  womanhood,  that  she 
might  light  a  home  which  would  never  have  a  legiti 
mate  mistress. 

In  the  spring  of  his  days,  when  hearts  naturally 
turn  to  love,  he  had  never  thought  to  lead  the  life  of 
a  bachelor.  He  was  a  great  admirer  and  a  perfect 
connoisseur  of  beautiful  women,  and  there  was  some 
thing  fascinating  in  his  courtly  and  deferential  man 
ner  toward  them. 

He  wooed  one  who  was  not  only  very  beautiful, 
but  very  wealthy,  and  he  did  not  woo  in  vain  ;  they 
were  engaged,  happy,  and  called  the  handsomest 
couple  in  all  the  country  round.  Either  his  whole 
heart  was  not  in  the  matter,  or  the  fates  were  against 
them. 


MISS    LANE.  295 

Mr.  Buchanan  was  a  lawyer,  and  his  extensive 
practice  often  took  him  away  from  home.  After 
one  of  his  trips,  which  had  been  longer  than  usual, 
he  delayed  going  to  the  girl  whose  heart  was  in  his 
keeping.  It  was  from  no  pressure  of  business,  for 
he  found  time  to  visit  a  married  couple,  who  were 
his  intimate  friends.  The  visit  and  the  delay,  im 
patient  as  the  girl  was,  might  have  been  condoned, 
perhaps,  with  frowns  and  tears,  but  still  condoned  ; 
but  alas  !  those  married  friends  had  a  guest,  and  the 
guest  was  a  young  and  very  charming  girl.  Both 
were  young  and  there  was  some  harmless  coquetry 
—  would  have  been  harmless  had  there  been  no  busy- 
bodies.  One  swept  across  their  path  and  divined 
with  a  devil's  instinct  the  wound  she  could  inflict 
upon  the  rich,  beautiful,  envied  Miss  Coleman,  the 
betrothed  of  Buchanan. 

A  call  was  made,  a  garbled  story,  fashioned  by  the 
informer's  evil  intent,  was  told.  It  is  said  that  jeal 
ousy  is  born  of  love.  Very  wroth,  not  waiting  to 
calm  her  jealous  passion,  the  girl  wrote  an  angry' 
note,  breaking  her  engagement.  Mr.  Buchanan  re 
ceived  it  in  a  crowded  court  room,  and  it  was  noticed 
that  his  cheek  blanched. 

Had  the  girl  been  penniless,  Buchanan  could  have 
brooked  her  anger  and  sued  again,  but  she  be 
longed  to  the  richest  -family  in  the  country,  was  rich 
in  her  own  right,  and  he  was  too  proud.  She  had 


2Q6  MISS    LANE. 

charged  him  with  coldness  and  indifference;  then  she 
must  think  him  sordid,  his  motives  interested.  He 
took  her  at  her  word  and  her  troth  was  given  back. 

Shortly  after,  a  party  of  young  people,  among 
whom  was  Miss  Coleman,  under  a  chaperon, 
planned  to  visit  Philadelphia  to  attend  an  opera. 
They  went  and  took  rooms  at  a  hotel.  When  they 
dressed  for  the  evening,  Miss  Coleman  complained 
of  feeling  ill,  too  ill  to  join  the  party.  They  went 
without  her ;  upon  their  return,  they  flocked  to  her 
room  to  see  if  she  were  better,  and  to  tell  her  of  the 
delightful  treat  that  she  had  lost — -to  their  horror, 
she  lay  dead  before  them. 

There  was  a  great  excitement,  and  it  created  no 
end  of  talk.  Her  family  were  very  reticent,  but  it 
was  supposed  that  the  unhappy  girl,  in  her  despair, 
went  away  unbidden. 

Mr.  Buchanan  was  overcome  with  grief,  and 
begged  of  her  father  the  privilege  of  being  allowed 
to  be  one  of  the  mourners  at  the  burial.  Mr.  Cole 
man,  naturally  indignant,  returned  the  letter  without 
other  answer. 

It  is  said  that  Buchanan  cherished  the  memory  of 
his  lost  love  to  his  dying  day.  It  is  hardly  to  be 
supposed  that  a  man  of  honor  and  feeling,  who  had 
brought  his  first  love  to  so  tragic  an  ending  would 
ever  marry. 

The  romping,  mischievous  child,  regardless  of  the 


MISS    LANE.  297 

proprieties,  brought  fresh  life  and  a  flood  of  sunshine 
into  the  bachelor's  home.  She  gave  frequent  cause 
for  rebuke  and  at  times  he  would  threaten  to  place 
her  with  two  maiden  ladies  in  the  village,  whose 
notions  were  very  rigid  as  to  the  deportment  of 
young  girls.  In  one  of  the  sessions  of  Congress,  of 
which  he  was  a  member,  he  really  did  it.  The  little 
girl  bewailed  her  lot,  and  wrote  him  letters  of  hard 
ships  and  homesickness,  but  he  adhered  to  his  plan 
during  his  seven  months'  absence.  If  they  kept  her 
subdued,  she  came  home  as  boisterous  and  trouble 
some  as  ever;  yet  when  she  was  the  most  trying, 
her  uncle  would  proudly  say,  "  She  has  a  soul  above 
deceit  or  fraud.  She  never  told  a  lie,  she  is  too 
proud  for  it." 

At  the  age  of  twelve,  she  was  sent  with  an  elder 
sister  to  a  school  in  Charlestown,  Virginia ;  her 
vacations  were  spent  with  Mr.  Buchanan,  and  once 
he  went  so  far  in  his  indulgence  as  to  take  her  with 
him  in  a  summer  trip  to  Bedford  Springs. 

There  was  a  convent  school  in  Georgetown,  of 
much  celebrity  for  turning  out  accomplished  women. 
Her  uncle  asked  her  if  she  thought  she  would  be 
come  a  Roman  Catholic  if  she  went  there.  "  I  can't 
promise,  I  don't  know  enough  about  their  faith," 
said  the  girl,  fearing  lest  her  honest  answer  would 
spoil  her  chance  of  going.  "Well,"  said  he,  "if  you 
become  a  good  Catholic,  I  will  be  satisfied."  She 


2QS  MISS    LANE. 

did  not  become  a  Catholic,  but  she  gained  and 
returned  the  love  of  the  nuns,  and  ever  bore 
witness  to  their  purity  and  self-denying  lives,  and 
by  letters  and  visits  kept  up  her  friendship  with 
them. 

While  she  remained  with  them,  her  Sundays  were 
spent  with  her  uncle  in  Washington. 

At  seventeen,  she  left  school,  and  was  placed  at 
the  head  of  his  house. 

Buchanan  himself  inherited  the  versatile  talents  of 
his  Irish  ancestry.  He  graduated  from  college  with 
honors  at  the  age  of  eighteen  ;  was  tall,  graceful, 
handsome,  overflowing  with  animal  spirits.  He  stud 
ied  law  and  was  admitted  to  the  bar  at  twenty-one, 
and  before  he  had  finished  his  third  decade  stood  at 
the  head  of  the  Pennsylvania  bar  with  an  extensive 
practice. 

He  was  opposed  to  the  war  of  1812,  but  when 
Baltimore  was  threatened,  he  enlisted  as  a  private 
and  marched  to  its  defence.  He  entered  the  State 
Legislature  at  twenty-three;  served  five  terms  in 
Congress  ;  appointed  by  Jackson,  was  minister  to 
St.  Petersburg,  where  by  his  skill  in  diplomacy  he 
gained  important  privileges  for  his  country  in  the 
waters  of  the  Black  and  Baltic  seas.  He  was  a  sena 
tor  to  Congress,  Secretary  of  State  under  Polk, 
Minister  to  St.  James's  under  Pierce,  and  President  of 
the  United  States  —  a  galaxy  of  honors,  and  had  he 


MISS    LANE.  299 

lived  in  less  troublous  times,  his  name  would  be 
among  the  first  on  the  page  of  history. 

He  had  endorsed  Clay's  compromise  measures  and 
much  was  hoped  from  his  election,  as  he  avowed  in 
his  inaugural,  that  his  policy  would  be  "  to  destroy 
any  sectional  party,  whether  North  or  South,  and  to 
restore  if  possible,  that  national,  fraternal  feeling 
between  the  different  states  that  had  existed  during 
the  early  days  of  the  Republic." 

In  the  last  months  of  his  administration,  men  who 
had  scorned  the  hero  of  New  Orleans,  would  wring 
their  hands  in  agony  and  think  a  day  of  the  ignorant 
Jackson,  would  be  better  than  a  cycle  of  the  learned 
and  elegant  Buchanan,  hopelessly  bewildered,  folding 
his  arms  in  weak  despair,  declaring  that  by  his  con 
stitutional  oath  he  had  no  power  to  save  the  Union. 
Jefferson  stretched  the  Constitution  to  buy  Louisiana, 
and  it  did  not  give  way  ;  and  now  it  did  seem  as  if 
the  warp  and  the  woof  of  it  might  be  tested  for  the 
saving  of  the  Union. 

Yet  Mr.  Buchanan  had  the  jewel  of  consistency. 
In  his  early  manhood,  he  had  said,  "  The  older  I 
grow,  the  more  I  am  inclined  to  be  what  is  called  a 
State  Rights  man."  He  had  endorsed  Tyler,  op 
posed  the  Ashburton  Treaty,  favored  the  annexation 
of  Texas,  on  the  plea  of  affording  that  security  to  the 
southern  and  southwestern  Slave  States,  which  they 
have  a  right  to  demand  ;  assisted  Polk  in  his  meas- 


3OO  MISS    LANE. 

ures  to  bring  on  the  Mexican  War,  opposed  the 
Wilmot  Proviso,  approved  enforcing  the  Fugitive 
Slave  Law  to  the  letter,  and  at  Ostend  urged  wrest 
ing  by  force  from  Spain  her  fairest  jewel,  lest  she 
should  abolish  slavery  and  thereby  "  her  possession 
of  it  should  endanger  the  existence  of  our  cherished 
Union." 

The  man  with  this  record  was  the  Democratic 
nominee  for  the  Presidency  in  1856,  and  received  the 
necessary  electoral  votes,  though  Fremont,  his 
opponent  had  the  popular  vote. 

He  was  an  adept  in  the  arts  of  diplomacy,  and  as  a 
foreign  minister  maintained  the  honor  of  his  country 
and  gave  satisfaction  to  all  parties. 

The  first  vexed  question  at  the  English  court  was 
the  important  one  :  in  what  manner  he  should  array 
his  person  to  appear  before  the  Majesty  of  England  ? 

Years  before,  when  this  matter  of  dress  was  dis 
cussed  at  home,  and  the  court  dress  exacted  by 
crowned  heads  forbidden,  Mr.  Buchanan  had  said  : 
"  Imagine  a  grave  and  venerable  statesman,  who  had 
never  attended  a  militia  training  in  his  life,  appearing 
at  court  arrayed  in  a  military  coat,  with  a  chapeau 
under  his  arm,  and  a  small  sword  dangling  at  his 
side." 

In  the  happy  days  of  her  married  life,  Victoria 
always  opened  parliament  in  person.  By  her  order  a 
circular  was  sent  to  Mr.  Buchanan,  inviting  him  to 


MISS    LANE.  301 

be  present  —  but  there  was  an  addendum  saying 
that  no  one  would  be  admitted  who  was  not  in  full 
court  dress. 

If  Mr.  Buchanan  could  not  go  as  he  would  before 
the  majesty  of  his  own  country,  he  would  not  go  at 
all  and  he  did  not.  Stay  away  when  bidden  by  the 
Queen  of  England !  The  American  minister  not 
present  at  the  opening  of  Parliament !  The  English 
press  had  a  theme. 

He  wrote  home  to  the  State  Department  that  he 
will  wear  no  gold  or  lace  embroidery,  but  that  he  has 
consulted  the  Master  of  Ceremonies  about  a  dress 
which  will  not  shock  the  Queen,  and  yet  be  not  much 
different  from  that  of  an  American  citizen  at  home. 

It  was  suggested  that  he  ^nould  wear  the  civil 
dress  of  Washington.  Go  back  half  a  century  and 
presume  to  affect  the  style  of  the  Father  of  his 
Country?  make  himself  ridiculous  ?  Not  he. 

"  Fashions  have  so  changed,"  he  said,  "  that  if  I 
were  to  put  on  this  and  wear  it  at  one  of  our  Presi 
dent's  receptions,  I  should  be  the  subject  of  ridicule 
for  life." 

He  had  written  for  his  niece,  Miss  Lane,  to  join 
him  in  England.  Now  he  wrote  that  it  would  be 
better  for  her  to  be  at  home,  for  his  contumacy  will 
probably  prevent  his  being  invited  to  court,  and  if  the 
Queen  drop  him,  she  may  be  sure  all  London  society 
will. 


3<D2  MISS   LANE. 

The  Queen  was  to  hold  a  levee  and  she  was  gra 
cious  enough  to  repeat  her  invitation,  making  no 
stipulations  as  to  dress. 

Mr.  Buchanan  was  every  inch  a  gentleman,  and 
wished  to  yield  so  far  as  his  dignity  as  an  American 
citizen  would  permit.  Again  he  took  counsel  with 
the  Master  of  Ceremonies.  At  his  suggestion,  he 
added  a  plain  dress  sword  to  his  usual  evening 
suit. 

He  wrote  Miss  Harriet  that  he  expected  to  pro 
duce  a  sensation  and  to  be  a  subject  of  court  gossip. 
When  it  was  over  he  wrote  again,  "  I  appeared  at 
the  levee  on  Wednesday  last  in  just  such  a  dress  as 
I  have  worn  at  the  President's  a  hundred  times,  a 
black  coat,  white  waistcoat  and  cravat,  and  black 
pantaloons  and  dress  buttons,  with  the  addition  of 
a  very  plain  black-handled  and  black-hilted  dress 
sword.  This,  to  gratify  those  who  have  yielded  so 
much  and  to  distinguish  me  from  the  upper  court 
servants.  I  knew  that  I  would  be  received  in  any 
dress  that  I  might  wear ;  but  could  not  have  antici 
pated  that  I  should  be  received  in  so  kind  and  dis 
tinguished  a  manner.  Having  yielded,  they  did  not 
do  things  by  halves.  As  I  approached  the  Queen, 
an  arch  but  benevolent  smile  lit  up  her  countenance, 
as  much  as  to  say,  '  You  are  the  first  man  who  ever 
appeared  before  me  at  court  in  such  a  dress.' '  I 
confess  that  I  never  felt  more  proud  of  being  an 


MISS    LANE.  303 

American  than  when  I  stood  in  the  brilliant  circle  in 
the  simple  dress  of  an  American  citizen." 

Miss  Lane  joined  him  and  then  came  another  vex 
atious  question.  In  the  American  minister's  house 
there  is  a  presiding  lady  who  is  neither  wife  nor 
daughter  —  what  shall  be  her  status?  how  shall  she 
rank  in  the  diplomatic  corps  ?  In  those  days,  Vic 
toria,  with  her  wise  domestic  counsellor  at  her  side, 
was  ever  gracious  ;  the  elegant  Buchanan  had  be 
come  a  favorite,  and  she  had  seen  his  blue-eyed 
niece,  with  her  wealth  of  golden  hair,  had  noted  her 
grace  and  beauty,  and  decided  that  she  should  have 
the  precedence  due  to  a  wife. 

At  the  first  drawing-room,  Miss  Lane  made  a 
great  impression.  On  their  return  home,  her  uncle 
said  :  "  Well,  a  person  would  have  supposed  you 
were  a  great  beauty,  to  have  heard  the  way  you 
were  talked  of  to-day.  I  was  asked  if  we  had  many 
such  handsome  ladies  in  America  ;  I  answered,  'Yes, 
and  many  much  handsomer — she  would  be  scarcely 
remarked  there  for  her  beauty.' ' 

Americans  abroad  were  enthusiastic  over  their 
receptions,  and  the  grace  and  dignity  with  which 
Miss  Lane  presided  at  the  Embassy. 

Her  robust  figure  and  fine  color,  added  to  her 
blonde  beauty,  gave  her  an  air  so  English  that  some 
questioned  if  she  were  an  American  ;  it  was  said  that 
she  looked  like  the  Queen  before  her  marriage.  If  it 


304  MISS    LANE. 

be  true  that  she  ever  resembled  Victoria,  she  must 
possess  some  elixir  for  preserving  beauty  which  the 
Queen  kens  not  of. 

When  Leo  XIII.,  in  the  spring  of  1887,  gave  the 
red  hat  to  Cardinal  Gibbons,  the  tribunes  of  the 
Salia  Regia  of  the  Vatican  were  crowded  with 
princesses,  ladies  of  the  diplomatic  corps,  and  dis 
tinguished  personages,  who  had  flocked  there  from 
all  parts  of  Europe,  and  it  was  remarked  that  among 
the  handsome  women,  the  most  remarkable  looking 
was  Mrs.  Johnston  of  Baltimore,  nee  Lane. 

Victoria  has  the  air  of  a  queen,  can  step  so  royally 
that  she  appears  taller  than  she  really  is ;  but  her 
face  has  the  stamp  of  a  fat,  blowzy  cook. 

Miss  Lane  enthusiastically  loved  England  and 
everything  English  —  English  people,  unless  they 
came  as  lovers,  and  there  was  a  string  of  those. 

Her  uncle  was  always  her  confidant,  and  many  a 
love  tale  had  she  to  pour  into  his  ears,  but  never  for 
a  moment  did  she  propose  to  become  one  of  the 
Queen's  subjects  and  expatriate  herself. 

When  Mr.  Buchanan  was  nominated  for  the  presi 
dency,  he  returned  to  America.  The  contest  was  a 
violent  one,  but  in  March  he  was  inaugurated  in  a 
more  imposing  style  than  any  who  had  been  before 
him. 

At  the  time,  Miss  Lane  was  in  mourning  for  a 
sister,  whom  she  dearly  loved  ;  in  a  few  weeks  she 


MISS    LANE.  305 

lost  a  brother,  who  was  to  have  been  an  inmate  of 
the  White  House.  The  first  season  she  paid  no 
visits,  but  at  a  reception  she  was  always  at  her 
uncle's  side,  and  never  did  a  more  imposing  couple 
receive  the  nation's  guests. 

A  foreign  correspondent  described  her  at  the  first 
New  Year's  reception :  "  The  Anglo-Saxon  beauty 
in  full  toilet  dc  demi-dciiil,  wearing  no  ornament  but 
a  necklace  of  seed-pearls,  looked  charming,  receiv 
ing  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  presented  with  grace 
and  affability.  She  was  surrounded  by  groups  of 
diplomatists  and  officials,  with  ladies  of  her  acquain 
tance,  forming  a  picture  more  beautiful,  although 
not  so  gaudy  as  the  sovereign  she  resembles;  that  is, 
before  Queen  Victoria  became  Mrs.  Albert  Guelph." 

Buchanan  had  the  honor  of  receiving  the  first 
Japanese  Embassy  to  this  country,  numbering 
seventy-one  ;  eight  of  the  chief  dignitaries  were 
entertained  at  a  dinner.  The  chief  object  of  their 
visit  was  to  procure  an  English  copy  of  the  treaty 
between  Japan  and  the  United  States,  signed  by  the 
President,  the  original  one  having  been  burned. 
The  Japanese  copy  had  been  saved,  and  they 
brought  an  unsigned  duplicate  of  it,  which  they 
never  allowed  out  of  their  sight. 

When  Queen  Victoria  and  Prince  Albert  sent 
their  first-born  to  visit  Canada,  the  President  sent  an 
invitation  for  him  to  extend  his  trip  and  visit  the 


3O6  MISS    LANE. 

United  States.  It  was  accepted,  and  Count  Renfrew, 
as  the  Queen  preferred  that  he  should  be  called,  and 
his  suite  were  entertained  at  the  Executive  Mansion 
with  princely  hospitality.  The  young  gentleman 
wearied  of  the  ceremonies,  but  patiently  went 
through  a  public  reception  and  a  diplomatic  dinner. 

Miss  Lane  took  him  to  a  young  ladies'  boarding- 
school,  and  this  was  an  amusement  more  in  accord 
ance  with  his  tastes  and  his  age.  There  was  a 
dreadful  rumor  that  at  Washington,  as  at  some  other 
cities,  he  slipped  away  from  his  guardians,  and 
visited  some  places  from  which  Victoria's  son  and 
the  heir  of  England's  throne  might  as  well  have 
stayed  away. 

Born  and  reared  amid  pomp  and  ceremony,  he 
naturally  preferred  pleasures  and  people  where  they 
did  not  come  in.  He  would  have  liked  a  dance,  even 
went  so  far  as  to  propose  it,  that  he  might  mingle 
with  the  beauties  of  the  capital,  but  Mrs.  Polk  had 
properly  settled  that  matter,  and  Buchanan  declined 
to  revive  it,  even  for  his  princely  guest,  on  the  score 
of  propriety. 

What  was  thought  a  proper  amusement  for  the 
great  grandson  of  George  the  Third  was  a  visit  to 
the  grave  of  Washington.  The  President,  Miss  Lane, 
the  diplomatic  corps,  and  the  chief  officers  of  the 
government,  with  the  prince  and  his  suite,  sailed  to 
Mount  Vernon  in  the  steamer  "Harriet  Lane."  The 


MISS    LANE.  3O7 

Prince  stood  beside  the  President,  looked  solemnly  if 
not  reverently  at  the  tomb ;  planted  a  tree  to  shade 
the  grave  of  the  man  his  ancestor  would  have  liked 
to  have  beheaded,  and  then  have  placed  the  gory 
trophy  on  Tower  Hill.  The  young  man  did  what  he 
was  told  to  do,  but  he  made  no  expression  as  to  the 
enjoyment  of  such  a  treat. 

When  Victoria  sent  a  letter  of  thanks  for  the  cour 
tesy  and  hospitality  bestowed  upon  her  son,  she 
mentioned  this  trip,  as  if  it  were  the  crowning  honor 
shown  him,  so  of  course  it  really  was  the  proper  thing 
for  the  President  to  take  him  there  ;  and  the  Revolu 
tionary  score  is  all  blotted  out. 

It  proved  a  rather  expensive  amusement  for  the 
government,  and  there  was  a  contention  when  pay 
day  came.  Buchanan  insisted  that  if  Congress 
would  only  pay  the  bill  from  the  contingent  fund,  he 
would  do  it  from  his  private  purse  ;  after  a  good 
deal  of  haggling,  the  Secretary  of  the  Treasury 
paid  it. 

Political  affairs  were  like  a  seething  cauldron  all 
through  Buchanan's  term.  In  the  first  year,  a  fresh 
slavery  difficulty  stirred  the  country. 

Dred  Scott  and  his  wife  had  been  taken  by  an 
army  surgeon  to  different  posts  in  the  Free  States, 
and  then  were  taken  back  to  slavery  in  Missouri. 
Either  from  the  air,  or  the  Abolitionists,  they  had 
learned  much  about  freedom,  and  claimed  it  on  the 


308  MISS    LANE. 

ground  that,  by  an  act  of  their  master,  they  had  been 
taken  into  free  territory.  The  case  was  referred  to 
the  Supreme  Court,  and  the  Chief  Justice  ruled  that 
they  were  slaves  still. 

This,  added  to  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law  and  the 
Kansas  troubles,  roused  an  insane  fury  among  the 
Abolitionists. 

John  Brown,  half  crazy  with  what  he  had  endured, 
had  come  from  Kansas  to  Virginia,  thinking  to  run  a 
quixotic  tilt  with  the  institution  of  the  South,  and  if 
he  could  not  succeed  was  ready  to  wear  the  martyr's 
crown.  To  show  his  sincerity,  he  took  his  own  sons 
for  his  esquires,  and  he  was  a  particularly  fond  father. 
With  a  small  band,  he  seized  the  United  States 
Arsenal,  at  Harper's  Ferry,  thinking  he  could  rouse 
a  grand  insurrection  among  the  slaves,  and  when  the 
scheme  was  well  inaugurated,  the  Abolitionists  of  the 
North  would  pour  down,  and  to  himself  would  belong 
the  glory  of  freeing  his  native  land  from  what  he 
called  its  curse.  Unfortunately  for  him,  the  sons  of 
Ham  were  not  of  the  heroic  type,  and  though  the 
Abolitionists  could  sing  paeans  to  him  and  for  him, 
they  were  far  too  wise  to  join  in  so  mad,  so  hair- 
brained  a  scheme. 

For  a  while,  a  very  short  while,  John  Brown  had 
things  in  his  own  way  ;  then  the  United  States 
troops  were  upon  him.  His  boys  were  shot  down, 
but  the  unhappy  old  man,  taken  while  he  knelt  be- 


MISS    LANE.  309 

tween  them,  encircling  one  with  his  arm,  was  re 
served  for  the  doom  his  fanatic  zeal  had  courted. 

The  fire-eaters  of  the  South  had  now  the  capital, 
which  the  Dred  Scott  decision  had  given  the  Aboli 
tionists  of  the  North.  They  accused  the  whole  Re 
publican  party  of  complicity  in  what  had  been  done 
on  their  sacred  soil. 

The  troublous  term  of  Buchanan  was  drawing  to  a 
close.  Abraham  Lincoln  was  the  Republican  nomi 
nee  for  the  fall  election  of  1860,  and  the  Democrats 
were  divided.  Mr.  Lincoln's  political  notions  were 
that  slavery  must  be  protected  where  it  was,  but 
must  not  be  carried  into  the  Free  States.  Under 
Polk,  Pierce,  and  Buchanan,  Southern  leaders  had 
had  things  pretty  much  in  their  own  way  and  now 
they  arrogantly  said  that  if  this  Northern  man,  with 
Northern  principles,  were  elected  their  states  would 
secede. 

People  at  the  North  had  heard  this  bluster  about 
secession  all  their  lives,  had  heard  that  cotton  was 
king,  didn't  care  much  if  it  were  ;  could  cry  vive  le 
roi  without  choking  ;  they  of  the  South  thought  the 
love  of  the  Union  and  an  undimmed  flag  was  simply 
a  sentiment,  which  Northerners  were  too  sordid,  too 
much  taken  up  with  money  making,  to  fight  over; 
then,  if  worst  came  to  worst,  they  counted  upon  a 
host  with  Southern  principles  who  would  defend 
their  cause. 


3IO  MISS    LANE. 

Lincoln  was  elected.  The  government  was  out  of 
the  rapids  now,  and  the  solemn  fall  began. 

General  Scott  begged,  almost  on  his  knees,  that  he 
might  move,  at  least  secure  government  property. 
Buchanan  was  in  despair,  impotently  wringing  his 
hands,  but  dared  not  move,  or  at  least,  would  not. 
In  his  last  message,  he  declared  that  the  Executive 
had  no  constitutional  power  to  use  the  army  or 
navy  to  save  the  Republic.  Scott  had  lived  under 
an  earlier  regime,  where  there  had  been  no  pusilla 
nimity,  and  he  had  been  given  carte  blanche  to  use 
the  forces  of  the  United  States  for  the  suppression 
of  secession,  which  under  such  measures  soon  came 
to  grief. 

Virginians  deprecated  secession,  and  proposed 
that  all  the  states  should  send  commissioners  to 
Washington,  to  settle  the  feud.  It  was  called  the 
Peace  Congress,  and  John  Tyler  was  the  president 
of  it. 

On  Washingon's  birthday,  there  was  a  military 
parade,  made  up  of  the  militia  and  the  United  States 
troops  stationed  at  the  Arsenal.  Tyler  had  the 
audacity  to  sharply  rebuke  Buchanan  for  permitting 
it.  He  meekly  excused  himself,  saying  that  he 
"  Found  it  impossible  to  prevent  two  or  three  com 
panies  of  regulars  from  joining  the  volunteers  with 
out  giving  offence  to  the  tens  of  thousands  of  people 
who  had  assembled  to  witness  the  parade." 


MISS    LANE.  311 

The  Peace  Congress  was  a  failure,  and  the  country 
presented  the  spectacle  of  two  governments,  two 
capitals,  two  presidents,  and  two  flags. 
•  Never  had  man  worked  and  schemed  harder  than 
Buchanan  to  reach  the  seat  of  Chief  Magistrate  of 
the  United  States,  and  now  he  feverishly  longed  to 
have  his  evil  days  come  to  an  end. 

On  the  fourth  of  March,  he  rode  to  the  Capitol 
with  Lincoln,  who  walked  into  the  Senate  chamber, 
leaning  on  his  arm  ;  the  inauguration  over,  he  re 
tired  to  his  home  in  Wheatland. 

Never  was  the  Executive  Mansion  maintained  in 
better  style  than  during  the  days  of  Buchanan  and 
Miss  Lane ;  the  President's  salary,  half  what  it  is 
now,  was  wholly  inadequate  to  its  maintenance,  and 
he  encroached  heavily  upon  his  private  fortune. 

There  is  a  sort  of  pathos  in  the  man's  whole 
history  —  a  man  so  nobly  endowed  by  nature  ;  in  his 
youth  he  was  shipwrecked  in  love  ;  in  age,  crowned 
with  his  country's  honors,  he  left  the  chief  magis 
tracy  with  tarnished  honors,  and  spent  his  last  years 
writing  a  book  defending  his  course. 

Some  said  that  he  was  a  traitor ;  a  larger  number, 
that  he  was  only  weak,  without  will,  or  moral  cour 
age  ;  had  not  the  endowments  for  emergencies.  One, 
rather  severe,  claimed  that  in  the  tentative  period  of 
political  issues  assumed  by  his  party,  Mr.  Buchanan 
could  always  be  found  two  paces  to  the  rear,  but  in 


312  MISS    LANE. 

the  hour  of  triumph  he  marched  proudly  in  the  front 
rank. 

In  his  retirement,  by  no  word  or  act  did  he  ever 
take  any  part  or  show  any  sympathy  for  or  against 
the  great  Rebellion,  but  he  lived  to  see  the  North 
triumph,  and  the  Union  intact. 

When  he  had  passed  his  seventieth  year,  he  was 
asked  to  give  away  the  niece  he  had  taken  and 
trained  from  childhood.  At  Bedford  Springs,  where 
they  were  accustomed  to  spend  their  summers,  Miss 
Lane  had  met  and  loved  Mr.  Henry  Elliot  Johnston. 
In  January,  1865,  she  wore  the  orange  blossoms; 
the  marriage  ceremony  was  performed  by  her  uncle, 
Rev.  Edward  Y.  Buchanan  ;  the  remainder  of  the 
winter  was  spent  in  Cuba.  On  their  return,  the  pair 
settled  in  Baltimore,  where  the  husband  had  bought 
and  furnished  a  house,  which  was  his  wedding  gift  to 
his  bride. 

Her  pleasure  in  the  Episcopal  church  service  led 
her  to  be  confirmed  in  the  church  of  which  her 
uncle  Edward  was  the  rector.  She  had  two  sons, 
and  the  elder  bore  the  name  of  James  Buchanan. 

At  his  death  in  1868,  Buchanan  left  his  fortune  to 
Mrs.  Johnston,  and  Wheatland  is  her  summer  home. 
Brilliant  as  was  the  career  of  her  youth,  the  latter  part 
of  her  life  has  been  shrouded  with  sorrows.  She  has 
outlived  all  the  numerous  relatives  of  her  early  years. 
She  has  "Become  a  widow  and  lost  both  her  sons 


MISS    LANE.  313 

within  the  last  seven  years.  Two  years  since,  she 
visited  at  Washington,  staying  with  Mrs.  Hornsby, 
the  daughter  of  Mr.  Buchanan's  Attorney-General, 
Judge  Jeremiah  Black. 

After  having  been  for  twenty-five  years  a  prom 
inent  figure  in  official  and  diplomatic  society,  she 
leads  a  life  of  great  seclusion. 


MRS.   LINCOLN. 

As  one  reads  the  story  of  Mrs.  Mary  Todd 
Lincoln,  one  can  but  feel  as  if  human  history  as 
told  by  Homer,  were  repeated  in  this  woman's  sad 
life  —  as  if  she  were  another  Cassandra,  having  the 
power  of  foretelling  future  events  and  having  all  her 
predictions  disregarded  and,  like  the  Cassandra  of 
old,  was  thought  to  have  "  eaten  of  the  insane  root 
that  takes  the  reason  prisoner."  The  elder  had  one 
advantage  over  this  nineteenth-century  woman,  for 
the  ancients  looked  upon  the  mad  as  outside  the 
pale  of  humanity,  and  thought  their  fantastic  brains 
somehow  allied  them  with  the  gods,  and  so  treated 
them  with  reverence. 

Miss  Todd  was  well  born  and  well  bred,  was  the 
daughter  of  Hon.  Robert  S.  Todd  of  Lexington, 
Kentucky.  As  a  child  she  was  restless  and  pecu 
liar,  and  in  her  early  girlhood  she  would  talk  of  her 
future  as  if  she  saw  it  all  mapped  out  before  her. 
She  was  to  be  the  wife  of  a  president,  and  queen  it 
over  the  White  House.  She  wearied  of  her  father's 
house,  and  went  to  her  sister,  Mrs.  Ninian  W. 
Edwards,  in  Springfield. 

3*4 


MRS.    LINCOLN.  315 

She  was  rather  attractive,  and  young  men  sought 
her  society ;  she  scanned  them  all ;  never  thought  of 
love,  only  weighed  the  chances  each  had  of  leading 
her  to  the  goal  of  her  ambition.  One  brilliant  suitor 
came  a  wooing ;  of  all  she  knew,  he,  to  the  common 
eye  seemed  most  likely  to  reach  the  presidency ;  but 
her  prophetic  vision  told  her  that  the  wife  "of 
Stephen  A.  Douglas  was  not  to  be  the  wife  of  a 
chief  magistrate  of  the  United  States. 

When  she  was  twenty-one,  Abraham  Lincoln  paid 
his  suit.  He  was  a  lawyer  by  profession,  had  been 
a  member  of  the  state  legislature,  a  member  so  poor 
that  he  had  walked  to  Vandalia,  the  capital,  one 
hundred  miles  away, — his  only  luggage  being  a 
bundle  which  he  carried  in  his  hand,  and  when  the 
session  was  over,  he  went  as  he  came. 

Every  feature  of  his  sober,  grave  face,  sad-eyed 
even  then,  was  more  than  plain,  and  he  was  long- 
legged,  awkward,  gaunt,  —  one  whose  exterior  would 
hardly  have  suited  the  fancy  of  a  young  girl,  eleven 
years  his  junior. 

Endowed  as  she  was  with  second  sight,  she  had  a 
terrible  shrinking,  —  once  declined  the  proffered  love, 
then  placed  her  hand  in  his,  feeling  sure  that  she 
had  taken  her  first  step  toward  the  White  House. 

What  made  this  engagement  more  peculiar  than 
any  ever  told  was  that  the  lover  too  had  shrinkings; 
morbidly  doubted  if  his  love  were  strong  enough  to 


MRS.    LINCOLN. 

make  the  girl's  happiness  safe  in  his  keeping.  His 
proposal  was  made  upon  the  most  trifling  acquaint 
ance,  made  because  he  sensitively  thought  that  she 
expected  it.  When  she  declined,  he  thought  that 
she  did  it  on  his  account,  and  with  a  singular  power 
of  tormenting  himself  felt  that  he  had  touched  and 
wtfunded  her  heart,  and  must  urge  the  girl  again, 
even  after  each  had  expressed  open  doubts  of  their 
fitness  for  each  other.  An  unsuccessful  lover  some 
times  falls  into  the  depths  of  despondency  and  is  pro 
foundly  miserable,  but  here  we  have  one  in  this  state 
because  he  is  a  successful  one.  No  wonder  that  the 
towns-people  thought  that  the  girl's  fantastic  brains 
were  to  be  matched  with  brains  equally  fantastic. 
Miss  Todd  had  not  won  beauty,  but  she  had  pledged 
herself  to  a  man  whose  heart  was  full  of  tenderness 
and  honest,  manly  devotion,  nor  was  the  "  rail- 
splitter  "  the  boor  that  he  was  represented. 

Before  the  marriage,  his  fidelity  led  him  into  what 
he  deemed  to  be  one  of  the  most  foolish  acts  of  his 
life.  Miss  Todd  had  written  a  satirical  poem  about 
a  young  lawyer  in  town,  and  a  mischievous  friend 
had  had  it  printed.  The  lawyer  was  very  wroth  and 
insisted  that  the  editor  should  give  him  the  name  of 
the  writer.  To  screen  his  betrothed,  Mr.  Lincoln 
said:  "I  take  the  responsibility."  A  challenge  was 
sent  and  accepted  ;  preliminaries  were  settled,  and 
the  choice  of  weapons  fell  to  Lincoln ;  he  chose 


MRS.    LINCOLN.  3 1/ 

broadswords,  hoping  to  make  it  simply  a  fencing 
affair ;  however,  at  the  time  of  the  meeting,  friends 
interposed  and  the  difficulty  was  amicably  arranged. 

In  the  Executive  Mansion,  Lincoln  was  once  asked 
if  this  story  were  true.  He  admitted  the  fact,  but 
bade  the  man,  if  he  valued  his  friendship,  never 
allude  to  it  again. 

As  one  reads  the  singular  story  of  Lincoln's  life, 
one  feels  that  he  was  born  great,  that  greatness 
was  never  thrust  upon  him.  He  was  born  in  a  log 
cabin,  a  son  of  the  poorest  of  the  poor,  of  a  man 
who  could  neither  read  nor  write,  a  wandering  day 
laborer,  without  any  force.  It  is  said  that  mothers 
not  fathers  transmit  their  qualities  to  their  sons. 
Abraham  Lincoln  had  an  excellent  mother,  and  when 
he  filled  the  highest  station  he  bore  testimony  to  her 
worth  :  "All  that  I  am,  or  hope  to  be,  I  owe  to  my 
angel  mother;  blessings  on  her  memory!"  Her 
impress  was  made  early,  for  she  sunk  under  hard 
ships  and  died  when  he  was  but  ten  years  old.  It 
was  she  who  taught  him  to  read  and  write,  and 
managed  that  he  should  have  a  little  schooling,  six 
months,  —  all  that  he  ever  had. 

The  family  were  Baptists,  but  in  the  sparsely 
settled  neighborhood  where  they  lived,  there  was 
no  clergyman  of  any  kind.  The  boy  could  not  be 
content  to  have  his  mother  laid  away  without  a 
funeral  sermon,  and  wrote  an  itinerant  preacher, 


3l8  MRS.    LINCOLN. 

who  had  known  her,  but  was  a  hundred  miles  dis 
tant  ;  the  man  came  on  horseback  to  perform  this 
simple  service. 

At  twenty-one  Abraham  Lincoln  bade  good-by  to 
his  father's  house,  and  went  forth,  as  he  said,  to  seek 
his  fortune.  He  worked  as  a  hired  laborer,  glad 
of  any  honest  service  ;  but  the  dream  of  his  life 
was  to  acquire  an  education,  and  half  the  night, 
and  every  spare  moment  of  the  days,  was  given  to 
attain  it. 

He  was  the  captain  of  the  volunteer  band  that 
Colonel  Zachary  Taylor  took  out  of  the  state  of 
Illinois  to  follow  Black  Hawk.  General  Jackson  ap 
pointed  him  postmaster  of  New  Salem,  but  as  he 
carried  the  mail  in  his  hat  and  distributed  the  letters 
and  papers  when  he  chanced  to  meet  their  owners, 
it  hardly  seems  as  if  he  had  made  a  rise  in  the  offi 
cial  world.  At  twenty-five  he  had  mastered  English 
grammar,  was  a  good  speaker,  and  elected  to  the 
state  legislature.  This  wras  a  step  forward,  and  he 
began  the  study  of  law.  Post-office  duties  kept  him 
at  New  Salem,  but  he  would  walk  to  Springfield, 
borrow  and  carry  home  a  load  of  books  on  his  back, 
and  under  trees  master  their  contents.  Law  books 
he  would  borrow  at  night  and  return  at  the  opening 
of  the  office  in  the  morning. 

Who,  but  one  endowed  with  a  prophetic  gift,  could 
have  divined  that  this  man  was  to  be  President  of  the 


MRS.    LINCOLN.  319 

United  States,  and  come  clown  in  history  as  the  peer 
of  Washington  ? 

In  October  1842,  he  is  doubtful  if  he  will  ever 
marry,  but  in  November  he  overcomes  his  reluctance, 
and  stands  up  and  meets  his  fate  like  a  man  bent  on 
doing  his  duty.  He  took  his  bride  to  the  Globe 
Tavern  in  Springfield,  where  he  mentions  in  a  letter, 
that  board  was  to  be  had  at  four  dollars  per  week. 
Prosperity  began  to  dawn,  and  his  spirits  to  rise  ; 
the  anxieties  and  forebodings  which  had  so  tortured 
him  seemed  to  have  passed  away,  or  with  a  strong 
hand  he  had  crushed  them  beneath  his  feet,  as  if 
they  were  disloyal  to  the  woman  who  bore  his  name. 
Four  children  were  born,  and  one  died. 

He  always  inclined  to  the  side  of  mercy,  never  re 
fused  a  case  for  the  lack  of  a  retaining  fee  ;  would 
boldly  defend  a  man  who  had  helped  a  fugitive  slave 
to  Canada ;  whether  it  were  right  or  wrong,  it 
showed  a  pitiful  heart,  especially  as  it  brought  him  a 
load  of  obloquy. 

He  almost  lost  his  faith  in  the  capacity  of  the 
Americans  for  self-government  when  Clay  was  passed 
over  for  Polk,  who,  after  the  Mexican  War,  he  always 
maintained  had  washed  his  hands  in  innocent  blood. 
In  1847,  he  was  elected  to  the  lower  House  in  Con 
gress.  Mrs.  Lincoln  had  no  desire  to  accompany 
him,  until  she  came  to  her  own  —  she  could  see  her 
early  vision  coming  true. 


320  MRS.    LINCOLN. 

The  calamitous  term  of  Buchanan  was  drawing  to 
a  close.  The  cracks  in  the  Union  were  gaping  wider 
and  wider,  and  the  only  man  who  had  known  how  to 
make  and  apply  the  cement  was  gathered  to  his 
fathers.  Patriots  and  statesmen  were  very  sober. 

In  the  Convention  of  1860,  Seward  and  Lincoln 
were  the  prominent  candidates,  and  heavy  bets  were 
made  in  favor  of  Seward.  In  Chicago  an  immense 
building  called  the  "  wigwam  "  was  prepared  ;  while 
the  balloting  went  on,  a  man  was  stationed  on  the  roof 
to  announce  the  result  to  the  masses  in  the  streets. 
At  the  first  and  second  ballot  Seward  led,  as  the 
third  was  taken,  one  of  the  secretaries  shouted  to  the 
man  :  "  Fire  the  salute,  Abe  Lincoln  is  nominated." 

Mr.  Lincoln  sat  in  a  newspaper  office  in  Spring 
field  to  hear  the  returns.  At  last  they  came,  in  his 
favor.  The  excitement  and  enthusiasm  of  his  towns 
men  knew  no  bounds.  In  the  midst  of  it  all,  he 
pocketed  the  telegram  and  said  :  "There  is  a  little 
woman  on  Eighth  Street  who  has  some  interest  in  this 
matter."  As  the  news  of  his  election  was  flashed 
over  the  wires,  this  little  sentence  came  too  ;  many 
sneered  that  this  should  be  his  first  thought.  He 
only  knew  how  quivering  with  excitement  the  little 
woman  was  ;  how  she  had  foreseen  and  pictured 
it  years  before  he  saw  her  face,  —  knew  she  took  his 
hand  with  the  conviction  that  he  would  bring  this 
thing  to  pass.  It  was  wise  to  keep  her  calm  by  end- 


MRS.    LINCOLN.  321 

ing  the  suspense,  for  there  was  but  little  doubt  of  his 
election,  when  nominated. 

Now  that  she  had  the  sugarplum  for  which  she 
had  so  long  waited,  she  had  no  patience  with  the 
confusion  it  entailed,  nor  with  the  guests  it  brought 
to  do  her  husband  homage. 

The  sorely  tried  man  took  a  room  at  the  State 
House  and  received  his  friends  there. 

Just  after  his  election,  Mr.  Lincoln  had  a  vision, 
and  his  sibyl  interpreted  it — oh,  how  truly!  He 
told  the  story  himself :  "  It  was  after  my  election 
when  the  news  had  been  coming  in  thick  and  fast  all 
day,  and  there  had  been  a  great  '  hurrah  boys,'  so 
that  I  was  well  tired  out  and  went  home  to  rest, 
throwing  myself  upon  a  couch  in  Mrs.  Lincoln's 
sitting-room.  Opposite  was  a  bureau,  upon  which 
was  a  looking-glass.  As  I  lay,  my  eye  fell  upon  the 
glass.  I  saw  myself  reflected  full  length,  but  my 
face  had  two  separate  and  distinct  images ;  the  tip  of 
the  nose  of  one,  being  about  three  inches  from  the 
tip  of  the  other.  I  was  a  little  bothered,  I  may  say 
startled  —  got  up  and  looked  in  the  glass,  but  the 
illusion  vanished.  On  lying  down  again,  I  saw  it  a 
second  time,  even  plainer  than  before,  and  then  I 
noticed  that  one  of  the  faces  was  much  paler  than 
the  other.  I  got  up,  the  thing  melted  away,  I  went 
off,  and  in  the  excitement  of  the  times  forgot  all 
about  it,  nearly,  not  quite,  for  the  thing  would  once 


322  MRS.    LINCOLN. 

in  a  while  come  back  to  me  and  give  me  a  little  pain, 
as  if  something  not  pleasant  had  happened.  When 
I  went  home  I  told  my  wife  about  it,  and  a  few  days 
after  I  tried  the  experiment  again,  when,  sure  enough 
the  thing  came  back  again,  two  faces,  and  one  so 
much  paler  than  the  other.  But  I  never  could  bring 
the  ghost  back  after  that,  though  I  once  tried  very 
hard  to  show  it  to  my  wife,  who  was  somewhat  wor 
ried  about  it.  She  said  it  was  a  sign,  and  her  inter 
pretation  of  it  was,  that  I  was  to  be  elected  to  a 
second  term  of  office,  and  the  paleness  of  one  of  the 
faces  was  an  omen  that  I  should  not  live  to  its  end." 
In  the  latter  part  of  February,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Lincoln  and  Mrs.  Lincoln's  two  sisters,  with  the 
boys,  Robert,  Willie,  and  Tad,  left  Springfield  for 
Washington.  There  were  rumors  that  Lincoln  was 
to  be  assassinated  as  he  passed  through  Baltimore. 
The  chief  of  the  police  had  kept  his  eyes  open,  and 
through  one  of  his  corps  of  detectives  had  learned 
that  a  gang  of  roughs  were  to  get  up  a  row  and,  in 
the  confusion,  one,  detailed  with  a  revolver,  was  to 
do  the  work.  A  special  train  was,  therefore,  ar 
ranged  at  Harrisburg  to  take  him  through  in  the 
night,  and  as  soon  as  he  started,  the  wires  were  cut. 
His  early  coming  made  a  great  stir;  it  was  said  that 
he  came  in  disguise,  but  the  disguise  was  nothing 
more  than  a  travelling  cap  and  shawl,  which  were 
loaned  him.  His  friends  were  confirmed  in  their 


MRS.    LINCOLN.  323 

belief  that  there  had  been  a  plot,  by  a  Southern 
member  of  the  Peace  Congress  exclaiming,  in  the 
excitement  of  his  early  appearance  :  "  How  in  the 
mischief  did  he  get  through  Baltimore  ?" 

Mr.  Lincoln  told  an  amusing  story  of  the  coming 
of  his  inaugural.  He  had  put  it  in  what  he  called  a 
gripsack,  and  given  it  to  the  care  of  his  oldest  boy. 
"When  we  reached  Harrisburg,"  he  said,  "and  had 
washed  up,  I  asked  Bob  where  the  message  was, 
and  was  taken  aback  by  his  confession,  that  in  the 
excitement  caused  by  the  enthusiastic  reception,  he 
believed  he  had  let  a  waiter  take  the  gripsack.  My 
heart  went  up  into  my  mouth,  and  I  started  down 
stairs,  where  I  was  told  that  if  a  waiter  had  taken 
the  article,  I  should  probably  find  it  in  the  baggage- 
room.  Hastening  to  that  apartment,  I  saw  an  im 
mense  pile  of  gripsacks,  and  thought  that  I  discov 
ered  mine.  The  key  fitted  it,  but  on  opening,  there 
were  inside  but  a  few  paper  collars  and  a  flask  of 
whiskey.  Tumbling  the  baggage  right  and  left,  in  a 
few  moments  I  espied  my  lost  treasure,  and  in  it  the 
all-important  document,  all  right." 

The  President-elect  paid  his  respects  to  the  Pres 
ident  in  power.  Members  of  the  Peace  Congress 
called  to  see  what  the  "  beast  "  was  like.  Maybe  he 
was  not  versed  in  all  the  refinements  of  society  ;  but 
somehow  he  pleased  even  the  prejudiced  ones  of  this 
class.  He  seemed  to  know  the  antecedents  of  each 


324  MRS.    LINCOLN. 

one,  and  as  he  shook  hands,  had  a  pleasant  and 
appropriate  word  for  each  ;  to  the  son  of  Clay,  he 
said  :  "  I  was  a  friend  of  your  father."  The  members 
expressed  themselves  as  agreeably  disappointed,  — 
said  that  artists  had  done  his  face  injustice.  There 
was  something  in  the  eye  and  expression  of  Abraham 
Lincoln  that  an  artist  could  never  catch. 

Times  were  very  ticklish,  and  there  was  a  great 
uncertainty  about  the  ceremonies  of  the  inauguration. 
General  Scott  had  a  batch  of  letters,  each  telling  of 
some  fiendish  plot,  and  he  protested  against  a  pro 
cession.  The  Republicans  had  triumphed,  and  their 
organization  in  Washington  determined  to  celebrate 
their  triumph  by  very  grand  doings.  To  the  threats 
of  assassination  they  said  "fol-de-rol." 

General  Scott  gave  a  reluctant  consent,  provided 
there  were  no  Wide-awakes  connected  with  the  affair. 
He  directed  the  committee  to  consult  with  Buchanan 
and  Lincoln. 

Buchanan  said  that  he  could  see  no  reason  for 
departing  from  the  general  usage.  He  thought 
General  Scott  unnecessarily  alarmed,  but  it  was  best 
to  have  deference  to  his  opinion.  He  bade  them  say 
to  Mr.  Lincoln,  that  it  would  give  him  pleasure  to  loan 
him  his  carriage  and  ride  with  him  to  the  Capitol. 

They  repaired  to  Lincoln's  hotel  and  delivered  their 
message.  For  answer,  —  "  Mary,  Mary,  come  here." 
Mary  came.  "  Mary,  the  President  has  tendered  the 


MRS.    LINCOLN.  325 

use  of  his  carriage,  and  agreed  to  accompany  me  to 
the  Capitol  when  I  am  sworn  in."  "That  was  very 
kind,  and  of  course  you'll  accept  the  offer,"  said 
Mary.  "Mary,  by  the  way,  I  see  some  one  has 
presented  you  with  a  carriage." 

After  this  domestic  dialogue,  Mary  retired,  and  the 
committee  presumed  to  speak  again  and  tell  him 
what  they  wanted.  He  rose,  threw  his  leg  over  the 
back  of  a  chair,  rested  his  chin  on  the  palm  of  his 
hand  and  said:  "When  I  was  practising  law  in 
Illinois,  a  client  of  mine,  a  peculiar  sort  of  a  fellow, 
was  brought  before  the  court,  and  the  judge  asked, 
'  Do  you  swear  or  affirm  ? '  '  Mr.  Judge,'  replied  my 

client,  '  I  don't  care  a which.''  The  committee 

took  this  for  consent,  and  made  their  arrangements 
for  a  fine  inauguration. 

Scott  had  been  curbed  in  his  desire  of  crushing 
the  rebellion  at  the  outset,  but  to  protect  the  Presi 
dent-elect,  he  put  all  his  engines  in  motion. 

Washington  volunteers  had  the  honor  of  forming 
the  bodyguard.  United  States  troops  were  in  the 
rear,  and  in  every  intersecting  street,  sharpshooters 
were  stationed  on  the  roofs  all  along  the  route. 
Police  and  detectives  in  uniform  and  out  of  uniform 
lined  the  walks.  Scott  would  say  now  and  then  : 
"  Thank  God,  all  is  going  on  peaceably." 

Buchanan  and  Lincoln  rode  in  the  same  carriage, 
preceded  by  a  triumphal  car  containing  thirty-four 


326  MRS.    LINCOLN. 

young  girls,  each  representing  a  state  in  the  Union  ; 
none  were  recognized  as  having  seceded.  Lincoln 
entered  the  senate  chamber  leaning  on  the  arm  of 
Buchanan,  who  looked  pale,  anxious,  and  excited,  and 
Lincoln  firm  and  very  serious. 

As  he  read  his  inaugural,  it  was  Douglas,  the 
"  little  giant,"  whom  he  had  distanced  in  love  and  in 
the  race  for  the  Presidency,  that  held  his  hat  and  for 
the  short  space  of  life  left  him,  endorsed  his  meas 
ures. 

For  a  time  it  seemed  as  if  the  government  had 
gone  to  pieces,  and  the  parts  were  in  the  whirlpool 
clashing  against  each  other. 

Senators,  representatives,  officers  of  the  army  and 
the  navy  went  one  after  another.  Lee  denied  that 
there  was  cause  for  secession,  but  when  Virginia 
went,  there  was  a  pathos  in  his  remark  to  Scott  : 
"  General,  the  property  belonging  to  my  children,  all 
that  they  possess,  lies  in  Virginia.  They  will  be 
ruined  if  they  do  not  go  with  their  state.  I  cannot 
raise  my  hand  against  my  children."  When  told  that 
Scott  had  called  him  traitor,  he  went  away  silently, 
almost  with  humility.  General  Scott  was  also  a  Vir 
ginian,  and  when  his  state  sent  a  member  from  its 
convention  to  tender  him  the  command  of  Virginia 
troops,  with  tempting  promises  of  wealth  and  honors, 
he  sternly  bade  the  man  stop,  lest  he  were  compelled 
to  resent  a  mortal  insult. 


MRS.    LINCOLN.  327 

The  first  great  act  in  the  drama  to  be  played  was 
forcing  the  lowering  of  the  flag  at  Sumter.  By  the 
rejoicing  at  the  South,  one  would  have  thought  that 
their  cause  was  fought  and  won.  The  rebel  Secre 
tary  of  War  said,  "  By  the  first  of  May,  the  Confeder 
ate  flag  will  float  over  the  dome  of  the  old  Capitol  at 
Washington,"  adding  :  "  Let  them  try  Southern  chiv 
alry  and  test  the  strength  of  Southern  resources,  and 
it  may  in  time  float  over  Faneuil  Hall  itself." 

Surely,  "  whom  the  gods  would  destroy,  they  first 
make  mad." 

People  at  the  North  had  been  apathetic ;  said 
there  must  be  "  no  coercion  "  ;  but  when  the  news 
came  over  the  wires  that  the  stars  and  stripes  were 
down  at  Sumter,  sparks  touched  tinder,  or  as  Beecher 
eloquently  expressed  it  :  "  The  spark  that  was  kin 
dled  at  Fort  Sumter,  fell  upon  the  North  like  fire 
upon  autumnal  prairies." 

None  who  can  remember  the  day  will  ever  forget  it. 

The  President  called  for  seventy-five  thousand  men, 
and  they  sprang  into  line.  The  miners  of  Pennsyl 
vania  came  first.  The  first  blood  was  drawn  at  Bal 
timore  as  the  u  Old  Sixth  "  of  Massachusetts  passed 
on  its  way  for  the  defence  of  the  national  capital. 
Every  drop  of  blood  shed  on  that  memorable  nine 
teenth  of  April  was  but  the  sowing  of  the  dragon's 
teeth,  and  "  armed  men  sprang  up  from  every  acre  of 
ground  in  the  North  and  West,  ready  to  sweep  Balti- 


328  MRS.    LINCOLN. 

more  into  the  sea  for  her  assault  and  her  presump 
tion,"  and  to  protect  the  Union. 

The  Southerners  said  Alabama  needed  blood  to 
keep  her  in  line.  The  blood  was  shed,  and  the  South 
was  unified  as  well  as  the  North.  The  war  spirit 
swept  over  the  country  like  wildfire. 

The  second  act  was  the  Battle  of  Bull  Run.  It 
was  Greek  meeting  Greek,  and  the  Northern  troops 
stampeded  before  Southern  chivalry.  The  grief  and 
the  rejoicing  were  all  repeated. 

The  North  never  flinched,  but  braced  up  with  the 
same  stalwart  vigor  that  nerved  Peter  the  Great 
when  beaten  by  Charles  the  Twelfth. 

The  Southerners  thought  they  had  already  donned 
their  boots  for  Faneuil  Hall,  the  goal  of  their  hearts' 
desire. 

The  Abolitionists  had  denounced  the  Union  and 
the  government,  and  it  was  supposed  that  they 
would  be  in  their  element  amid  the  strife  they  had 
helped  to  stir  up.  If  there  were  an  undercurrent  of 
exultation  in  the  thought  that  the  slaves  would  rise, 
and  the  work  for  which  they  had  schemed  would  be 
done,  yet  they,  with  Northern  men  with  Southern 
sympathies,  rallied  round  the  flag.  In  the  second 
year,  the  President  issued  a  call  for  three  hundred 
thousand  men,  and  they  went  into  line,  singing,  — 

"  We  are  coming,  Father  Abraham, 
Three  hundred  thousand  more." 


MRS.    LINCOLN.  329 

So  the  miserable  months  wore  on  ;  the  North  almost 
always  the  under  dog,  but  plucky. 

The  canny  Scotch  tell  us  that  "it's  a  lang  lane, 
that  has  nae  turning." 

The  story  of  Vicksburg  and  of  Gettysburg,  told  on 
the  same  clay,  told  the  North  and  the  South  that  the 
lane  had  come  to  a  very  sharp  bend.  At  the  North 
there  were  budding  hopes,  that  when  the  lane  turned 
again,  it  would  have  a  well-rounded  corner  to  meet 
the  Southern  lane,  and  the  two  would  run  in  no  tan 
dem  style  but  abreast. 

Upon  the  arrival  of  the  family  at  the  Executive 
Mansion,  Mrs.  Lincoln  was  all  bustle  and  excitement, 
and  began  at  once  to  prepare  for  the  reception  which 
she  had  so  often  planned. 

She  was  "fat,"  hardly  "  fair,  and  forty  "  ;  that  she 
was  the  successor  of  the  popular,  elegant,  and  accom 
plished  Miss  Lane  was  not  a  point  in  her  favor. 

At  the  first  levee,  she  appeared  in  pink  silk, 
decollete',  short-sleeved,  and  a  floral  headdress, 
which  ran  down  to  her  waist  and  destroyed  what 
comeliness  simplicity  might  have  given  her.  If  to 
dress  and  reign  as  a  queen  had  been  the  fond  dream 
of  her  life,  in  the  waking  reality  she  was  far  from 
happy.  The  President  did  not  share  her  tastes,  ancl, 
weighted  with  care  and  sorrow  as  he  was,  she  could 
not  mould  him  to  her  notions.  The  elite  of  the  old 
Washington  society  did  not  take  kindly  to  her, 


330  MRS.    LINCOLN. 

indeed  would  hardly  recognize  a  woman  whose  dress 
was  fantastic,  and  whose  conduct  at  times  was  so  at 
variance  with  good  breeding.  She  was  not  at  all 
conciliatory  toward  those  who  came  to  see  the  Presi 
dent  ;  from  first  to  last,  never  did  anything  to  stamp 
his  career  with  even  social  success.  Dinner  enter 
tainments  were  given  up,  the  large  dining-room  was 
closed,  and  the  press  said  by  the  parsimony  of  Mrs. 
Lincoln.  She  was  a  bitter  cup  of  domestic  misery 
pressed  closely  to  the  lips  of  a  man  who  was  con 
tending  with  party  hate  and  rebellious  strife,  and  he 
quaffed  it  with  a  Godlike  patience,  always  treating 
her  affectionately,  and  calling  her  "mother"  ;  if  she 
were  rude  to  his  guests,  he  treated  them  with  a 
tender  delicacy,  as  if  he  wished  to  atone. 

A  portion  of  one  of  the  President's  messages  was 
telegraphed  to  the  press  in  advance  of  its  delivery. 
When  the  matter  was  sifted,  the  offender  said  that 
he  was  under  promise  of  strict  secrecy  as  to  how  he 
came  by  it.  Lincoln  intuitively  knew  the  source  of 
the  mischief,  and  when  a  garbled  story  was  told  by 
the  gardener,  he  begged  that  it  might  be  accepted 
and  he  be  spared  from  the  disgrace  of  the  truth. 

February  5,  1862,  when  the  hospitals  were  crowded 
with  wounded  soldiers,  and  everything  wore  a  gloomy 
outlook  for  the  government,  Mrs.  Lincoln  gave  a 
large  party,  honored  by  the  presence  of  the  French 
princes.  The  press  was  very  severe  upon  her,  say- 


MRS.    LINCOLN.  331 

ing,  "  Come  what  will,  the  queen  must  dance,"  but 
if  she  had  expected  pleasure,  it  proved  an  evening 
of  unendurable  length  and  every  smile  was  forced. 
Willie,  a  bright,  intelligent  lad  of  eleven  years,  was 
very  ill.  For  two  nights  his  mother  had  hung  sleep- 
lessly  over  him,  and  every  now  and  then  did  she  and 
the  President  steal  away  from  the  gay  throng  to 
spend  a  few  moments  by  his  bedside.  He  never 
recovered ;  Mrs.  Lincoln  would  never  again  enter 
the  room  where  he  died,  or  the  Blue  Room  where 
his  body  lay  in  its  casket.  The  President's  natural 
tendency  to  melancholy  deepened,  and  he  would 
often  say:  "Whichever  way  the  war  ends,  I  have 
the  impression  that  I  shall  not  last  long  after  it  is 
over." 

Mrs.  Lincoln,  after  the  loss  of  her  boy,  indulged  in 
more  vagaries  than  ever,  and  the  most  mortifying 
one  was  jealousy.  One  would  have  thought  that  the 
homely,  angular  Lincoln,  haggard  and  careworn, 
was  an  Adonis,  the  sight  of  whom  would  win  a 
woman's  heart.  By  chance,  a  gentleman  once 
alluded  to  a  favor  the  President  had  granted  a 

o 

lady.  Mrs.  Lincoln  fell  into  such  a  paroxysm  of 
rage  and  jealousy,  declaring  that  she  never  allowed 
the  President  to  see  a  woman  alone,  that  she  shamed 
all  present,  and  her  husband  left  the  room  with 
bowed  head  and  averted  face. 

At  another  time  a  lady,  mounted,  rode  by  the  side 


332  MRS.    LINCOLN. 

of  the  President,  while  Mrs.  Lincoln  followed  in  a 
carnage  ;  her  anger  knew  no  bounds,  and  when  she 
saw  the  woman,  upon  their  arrival,  she  taunted  her 
with  her  conduct  as  if  she  were  one  of  the  demi 
monde,  even  (vainly)  insisted  that  her  husband,  who 
was  an  efficient  general  in  the  army,  should  be  dis 
charged.  The  popularity  of  General  Grant  roused 
her  ire  against  Mrs.  Grant,  and  she  accused  her  of 
scheming  to  get  the  White  House  for  herself.  At 
another  time,  she  flew  into  a  rage  because  she  sat 
unbidden  in  her  presence,  and  asked  her,  "  how  she 
dared  ?  " 

The  New  Year's  reception  of  1863  at  the  Execu 
tive  Mansion  is  particularly  memorable,  being  the 
day  when  the  Emancipation  Proclamation  went  into 
effect.  The  blacks  gathered  in  the  grounds  about 
the  house,  and  when  the  white  folks  left,  poked  in 
their  woolly  heads,  furtively  at  first,  then  boldly  made 
a  rush  to  shake  the  hand  of  "  Massa  Linkun  "  and 
say  a  "God  bless  you." 

The  people  endorsed  the  measures  of  Lincoln  in 
1864,  by  a  re-election  ;  this,  and  the  hopeful  state  of 
military  affairs,  rather  roused  him  from  his  constitu 
tional  melancholy  and  the  beckoning  finger  of  the 
skeleton,  death,  seemed  for  a  time  overshadowed. 
From  the  imbecility  of  the  government  of  his  pre 
decessor,  he  had  inherited  a  thorny  wilderness  of 
perplexities,  and  he  had  bravely  trod  its  paths, 


MRS.    LINCOLN.  333 

though  with  a  bleeding  heart ;  once  had  said,  "  I 
shall  never  be  glad  any  more."  The  prospect  of 
peace,  a  united  and  a  free  country,  seemed  to  open  a 
brighter  vista.  The  Southern  Confederacy  had  been 
kept  in  its  fatal  isolation  by  an  abhorrence  of  slavery 
prevailing  among  civilized  mankind. 

Clay  had  said  in  his  last  days  that  a  war  for 
slavery  would  have  no  sympathy,  no  good  wishes, 
all  mankind  would  be  against  it,  and  the  history  of 
the  country  itself  would  be  against  it.  His  vision 
was  clear,  but  it  went  no  farther  ;  only  eleven  years 
had  passed  since  his  death,  and  the  country  had  been 
baptized  in  blood  and  slavery,  was  a  thing  of  the  past, 
destroyed  by  its  own  supporters. 

The  inauguration  of  1865  passed  off  quietly;  the 
precautions  of  1861  were  unthought  of.  In  the 
evening  there  was  a  brilliant  ball,  and  the  President 
and  Mrs.  Lincoln  sat  on  a  raised  dais  ;  though  the 
President  had  become  feeble,  weary,  and  worn,  his 
face  wore  an  unusual  air  of  smiling  content.  At  the 
time  "  it  was  thundering  all  around  the  heavens," 
and  the  plucky  under  dog  was  the  upper  one,  with 
its  fangs  fast  closed  upon  its  adversary. 

General  Lee  surrendered  on  the  ninth  of  April, 
and  on  the  eleventh  the  White  House  was  brilliantly 
illuminated,  and  crowds  gathered  to  offer  their 
congratulations.  The  President  made  what  proved 
to  be  his  last  address  ;  there  was  only  a  passing 


334  MRS-    LINCOLN. 

allusion  to  the  success  of  the  army,  but  he  pleasingly 
dwelt  upon  reconstruction.  The  "erring  sisters" 
had  come  back  and  the  chief  object  was  to  hold 
them  in  a  close  embrace,  and  cover  them  with  the 
flag. 

Good  Friday,  April  14,  the  President  and  Mrs. 
Lincoln,  with  a  party  of  friends,  by  the  invitation  of 
the  manager,  attended  Ford's  Theatre  to  see  Miss 
Laura  Keene's  company  in  the  "  American  Cousin." 
To  attract  a  crowd,  a  personal  notice  had  appeared 
in  the  daily  papers  that  both  the  President  and 
General  Grant  would  be  present.  At  no  time  did 
Mrs.  Grant  care  to  go  in  company  with  Mrs.  Lincoln, 
and  just  now  she  was  longing  to  see  her  children, 
who  were  at  school  in  New  Jersey,  and  she  per 
suaded  the  general  to  accompany  her.  The  tired, 
soft-hearted  President  went,  lest  the  people  would  be 
disappointed  if  he  didn't  go. 

The  theatre  was  packed,  and  as  the  party  entered 
their  private  box,  every  one  rose  and  vociferously 
cheered.  Soon  after,  John  Wilkes  Booth,  an  actor 
of  disloyal  repute  throughout  the  war,  by  showing  a 
false  card  to  the  President's  servant,  gained  access  to 
the  box.  He  held  a  small  Derringer  pistol  in  one 
hand  and  a  double-edged  dagger  in  the  other.  The 
President's  back  was  towards  him,  and  so  quiet  were 
the  assassin's  movements  he  did  not  turn.  The 
pistol  was  held  close  to  his  head,  and  the  bullet  fired. 


MRS.    LINCOLN.  335 

There  was  a  report  and  a  puff  of  smoke,  but  before 
any  one  could  realize  what  had  happened,  Booth 
exclaimed,  "  Sic  semper  tyrannis !  The  South  is 
avenged,"  jumped  upon  the  stage,  left  the  theatre, 
was  in  his  saddle,  and  gone. 

The  President  did  not  move,  but  soon  the  people 
realized  what  had  been  done.  The  excitement  and 
confusion  were  intense.  Men  shouted,  and  women 
shrieked  and  fainted. 

Miss  Laura  Keene  was  the  most  self-possessed, 
and  procuring  water  and  cordials  climbed  into  the 
box  from  the  stage.  The  unconscious  President  was 
taken  across  the  street  and  examined  by  surgeons, 
who  pronounced  the  wound  a  mortal  one. 

Mrs.  Lincoln  followed  the*  men  who  bore  her 
husband,  uttering  the  most  heartrending  shrieks, 
and  through  the  night  sat  with  her  son  Robert, 
moaning  in  an  adjoining  room, — at  times  she  would 
wildly  start  and  cry  :  "  Why  didn't  they  shoot  me  ? " 

Several  of  the  cabinet,  with  Senator  Sumner, 
watched  over  the  sufferer  and  at  times  sobbed  like 
women.  He  died  about  half  past  seven  in  the  morn 
ing,  and,  placed  in  a  coffin,  was  borne  by  six  soldiers 
to  the  Executive  Mansion. 

Only  children  had  slept  in  Washington  that  night; 
it  had  been  one  of  terror,  soldiers  had  stood  to  their 
arms,  mounted  men  had  patrolled  the  streets,  and 
every  one  was  inquiring  for  the  latest  news. 


33^  MRS.    LINCOLN. 

As  the  sad  story  sped  over  the  wires,  bells  were 
tolled  from  ocean  to  ocean,  and  flags  were  at  half 
mast.  Every  church,  town,  and  hamlet  was  draped 
in  mourning  —  even  the  supply  of  black  goods  was 
exhausted. 

The  President  was  embalmed,  and  on  the  following 
Wednesday,  funeral  services  were  held  in  the  East 
Room.  The  body  was  removed  to  the  rotunda  of 
the  Capitol,  where,  under  guard,  it  remained  over 
night.  It,  with  the  body  of  his  little  son,  Willie,  was 
placed  in  a  funeral  car,  and  the  sad  pageantry  began. 

Never  before  had  there  been  such  a  procession  or 
such  a  funeral. 

The  remains  were  taken  to  Independence  Hall, 
Philadelphia  ;  City  Hall,  New  York  ;  and  at  Cleve 
land  a  building  was  erected  in  the  Park,  and  Bishop 
Mcllvaine,  read  the  burial  service  upon  the  opening  of 
the  casket.  The  sons,  Robert  and  little  Tad,  were 
the  chief  mourners,  and  the  abandonment  of  the 
latter  to  tears  and  grief  touched  every  heart. 

May  4th,  dust  was  committed  to  dust,  and  ashes 
to  ashes  at  Oak  Bridge  Cemetery,  Springfield,  his 
old  home.  His  martyrdom  had  placed  the  final  seal 
upon  his  renown,  and  his  name  will  fill  a  place  in  the 
annals  of  the  world  which  will  ever  be  held  sacred. 

A  political  opponent,  one,  whose  name  figured  in 
the  history  of  the  war,  said  of  him:  "Abraham 
Lincoln  was  all  that  his  admirers  claimed.  He  was 


MRS.    LINCOLN.  337 

a  Providence.  The  abolition  of  slavery  was  beyond 
man  ;  it  was  of  God,  and  Abraham  Lincoln  was  his 
chosen  instrument." 

His  miserable  assassin  was  tracked  and  hunted 
like  a  dog,  and  when  tracked  to  his  hiding-place  shot 
down  as  he  was  about  to  use  his  weapon  against  his 
pursuers.  A  couple  of  extracts  from  his  diary  give 
his  version  of  the  matter,  and  explain  what  was  half 
suspected,  — 

"April  14,  Friday,  the  Ides.  Until  to-day  nothing 
was  ever  thought  of  sacrificing  to  our  country's 
wrongs.  For  six  months  we  had  worked  to  capture  ; 
but  our  cause  being  almost  lost,  something  decisive 
and  great  muzt  be  done.  But  its  failure  was  owing 
to  others,  who  did  not  strike  for  their  country  with  a 
heart.  I  struck  boldly,  and  not  as  the  papers  say.  I 
walked  with  a  firm  step  through  a  thousand  of  his 
friends,  was  stopped,  but  pushed  on.  A  colonel  was 
at  his  side.  I  shouted,  '  Sic  semper'  before  I  fired. 
In  jumping  broke  my  leg.  I  passed  all  his  pickets  ; 
rode  sixty  miles  that  night  with  the  bone  of  my  leg 
tearing  the  flesh  at  every  jump.  I  can  never  repent 
it.  Though  we  hated  to  kill,  our  country  owed  all 
her  troubles  to  him,  and  God  simply  made  me  the 
instrument  of  his  punishment.  The  country  is  not 
what  it  was.  This  forced  union  is  not  what  I  have 
loved.  I  care  not  what  becomes  of  me.  I  have  no 
desire  to  outlive  my  country.  This  night,  before 


33^  MRS.    LINCOLN. 

the  deed,  I  wrote  a  long  article  and  left  it  for  one  of 
the  editors  of  the  National  Intelligencer,  in  which  T 
fully  set  forth  our  reasons  for  our  proceedings.  He 
or  the  South." 

"Friday,  21.  After  being  hunted  like  a  "dog, 
through  swamps  and  woods,  and  last  night  being 
chased  by  gunboats,  till  I  was  forced  to  return ; 
wet,  cold,  and  starving,  with  every  man's  hand 
against  me,  I  am  here  in  despair.  And  why  ?  For 
doing  what  Brutus  was  honored  for,  —  what  made 
Tell  a  hero.  And  yet  I,  for  striking  down  a  greater 
tyrant  than  they  ever  knew,  am  looked  upon  as  a 
common  cutthroat.  My  act  was  purer  than  either 
of  theirs.  One  hoped  to  be  great  himself,  the  other 
had  not  only  his  country  but  his  own  wrongs  to 
avenge.  I  hoped  for  no  gain  ;  I  knew  no  private 
wrong.  I  struck  for  my  country,  and  that  alone,  a 
country  ground  beneath  this  tyranny ;  and  prayed  for 
this  end,  and  yet,  now  behold  the  cold  hand  they 
extend  to  me.  God  cannot  pardon  me  if  I  have  done 
wrong.  Yet,  I  cannot  see  any  wrong,  except  in 
serving  a  degenerate  people.  The  little,  the  very 
little  I  left  behind  to  clear  my  name,  the  government 
will  not  allow  to  be  printed.  So  ends  all !  For  my 
country  I  have  given  up  all  that  makes  life  sweet 
and  holy,  brought  misery  upon  my  family,  and  am 
sure  there  is  no  pardon  in  the  heavens  for  me,  since 
man  condemns  me  so.  I  have  only  heard  of  what 


MRS.    LINCOLN.  339 

has  been  done  (except  what  I  did  myself)  and  it  fills 
me  with  horror.  God  !  try  and  forgive  me,  and  bless 
my  mother.  To-night  I  will  once  more  try  the  river 
with  the  intention  to  cross,  though  I  have  a  greater 
desire,  and  almost  a  mind  to  return  to  Washington, 
and  in  a  measure  clear  my  name,  which  I  feel  I  can 
do.  I  do  not  repent  the  blow  I  struck.  I  may 
before  my  God,  but  not  to  man.  I  think  I  have 
done  well,  though  I  am  abandoned  with  the  curse  of 
Cain  upon  me;  when,  if  the  world  knew  my  heart, 
that  one  blow  would  have  made  me  great,  though  I 
did  desire  no  greatness.  To-night  I  try  to  escape 
these  bloodhounds  once  more.  Who,  who  can  read 
his  fate  ?  God's  will  be  done.  I  have  too  great  a 
care  to  die  like  a  criminal.  Oh,  may  He,  may  He 
spare  me  that  and  let  me  die  bravely.  I  bless  the 
entire  world.  Have  never  hated  or  wronged  any 
one.  This  last  was  not  a  wrong,  unless  God  deems 
it  so,  and  it  is  with  him  to  damn  or  bless  me.  And 
for  this  brave  boy,  Harold,  with  me,  who  often  prays 
(yes,  before  and  since)  with  a  true  and  sincere  heart, 
was  it  crime  in  him  ?  If  so,  why  can  he  pray  the 
same  ?  I  do  not  wish  to  shed  a  drop  of  blood, 
but  I  must  fight  the  course.  'Tis  all  that's 
left  me." 

Perhaps  it  was  well  that  he  was  shot  down  by 
Sergeant  Boston  Corbett,  as  the  masses,  in  their 
frenzied  rage,  only  thirsted  for  his  blood,  and  it 


34O  MRS.    LINCOLN. 

would  have  required  a  large  force  to  have  protected 
him  from  being  torn  in  pieces.  His  body  lies  in  an 
unknown-  grave  ;  it  is  believed  to  have  been  taken 
in  the  night  upon  the  Potomac,  and,  well  weighted, 
flung  to  its  bottom. 

The  half-demented  Mrs.  Lincoln,  hugging  her 
misery,  clung  to  her  palace.  Johnson  was  very 
courteous,  and  bade  her  remain  as  long  as  it  suited 
her  to  do  so.  Congress  paid  her  eighteen  thousand 
dollars,  — the  remainder  of  the  year's  salary. 

Though  there  was  no  need,  she  applied  to  Con 
gress  for  a  pension,  and  even  to  private  individuals 
for  money,  and  of  course  it  was  bruited  abroad  by 
the  newspapers.  The  Republicans,  who  had  sub 
scribed  to  the  fund  of  one  hundred  thousand  dollars, 
paid  to  Mrs.  Lincoln  after  the  death  of  her  lamented 
husband,  were  naturally  very  angry. 

The  English  know  just  how  many  Sepoys  to  bind 
and  shoot  from  one  cannon's  mouth,  always  know 
what  is  justice,  and  are  always  bowed  to  the  earth 
at  injustice,  and  so  stood  on  their  side  of  the  water 
and  shied  stones,  declaring  that  the  American 
people  owed  this  woman  reverence  for  her  very 
name's  sake,  —  the  widow  of  the  "Emancipator." 

Mrs.  Lincoln  created  a  sensation  in  the  autumn 
of  1867,  by  offering  for  sale,  in  a  small  upstairs 
room  on  Broadway  in  New  York,  what  she  repre 
sented  to  be  her  wardrobe  in  the  White  House. 


MRS.    LINCOLN.  341 

Those  who  inspected  the  collection  said  the  object 
of  this  exhibition  could  not  have  been  to  realize 
money  from  the  sale.  With  the  exception  "of  some 
lace,  camel's  hair  shawls,  and  a  few  diamond  rings, 
there  was  nothing  which  any  lady  could  wear  or 
which  would  not  have  been  a  disgrace  to  a  second 
hand  clothing  store.  The  dresses,  those  that  had 
been  made  up  and  worn,  were  crushed,  old-fashioned, 
and  trimmed  without  taste.  The  skirts  were  too 
short  for  any  but  a  very  short  person,  and  were 
made  of  the  commonest  muslins,  grenadines,  and 
bareges.  All  were  cut  extremely  low  in  the  neck 
and  could  not  be  available  for  any  purpose.  There 
were  some  brocaded  silk  skirts  in  large,  heavy 
patterns,  which  had  been  made  but  not  worn,  but 
these  had  no  waists,  while  the  prices  put  upon  them 
and  the  other  articles  were  exorbitant.  The  object 
was  to  stimulate  Congress  to  grant  her  a  pension. 
Thurlow  Weed  said  that  the  Republicans,  through 
Congress,  would  have  made  proper  arrangements,  if 
she  had  deported  herself  in  a  way  to  insure  respect. 

The  miserable  woman's  troubles  multiplied.  Tad, 
the  pet  and  darling  of  his  father,  died  at  eighteen. 
She  went  abroad  and  lived  obscurely  for  years,  not 
always  in  the  best  of  company.  On  her  return  she 
quarrelled  with  her  son,  and  dragged  their  private 
affairs  into  court  at  Chicago,  where  the  secret 
malady  under  which  she  labored  was  first  disclosed, 


342  MRS.    LINCOLN. 

and  his  conduct  vindicated.  Congress  had  granted 
her  a  pension  of  three  thousand  dollars,  afterward 
increased  to  five,  but  her  doings  became  such  a 
scandal,  that  both  her  person  and  finances  were 
placed  under  supervision.  She  died  at  Springfield, 
Illinois,  July  16,  1882,  in  her  sixty-third  year. 

In  1876,  there  was  an  attempt  to  steal  the  body  of 
Lincoln,  which  was  in  a  marble  sarcophagus  within 
the  tomb.  This  led  some  young  men  of  the  place  to 
form  what  was  called  the  Lincoln  Guard  of  Honor. 
In  1878,  lest  the  body  might  be  stolen,  they  removed 
it  from  its  marble  tenement  and  placed  it  in  a  secret 
grave,  and  when  Mrs.  Lincoln  died,  they  placed  hers 
beside  it.  April  14,  1887,  the  Guard  surrendered 
their  trust  to  the  Lincoln  Monument  Association. 
The  bodies  were  each  in  walnut  coffins,  inclosed  in 
a  cedar  one  and  that  in  a  pine  box.  When  they 
were  exhumed,  the  lid  of  the  President's  was  removed, 
and  those  who  stood  around  and  had  known  him 
alive,  easily  discerned  his  features.  The  silver  plate 
was  bright  on  which  was  inscribed,  "  Abraham 
Lincoln,  i6th  President  of  the  United  States.  Born 
Feb.  12,  1809,  died  April  15,  1865."  While  the 
remains  were  exposed  to  view,  the  president  of  the 
Guards  turned  them  over  to  the  Association. 

The  Guards  signed  a  certificate  that  the  remains 
were  those  they  received  from  the  Association  in 
1878,  and  they  in  turn  signed  a  certificate  that  the 


MRS.    LINCOLN.  343 

remains  were  those  of  Abraham  Lincoln  ;  then  the 
coffin  was  sealed  by  a  plumber. 

In  the  vault  of  the  old  tomb  a  cavity  eight  feet 
long,  six  wide,  and  five  and  a  half  deep,  bricked  and 
cemented,  had  been  prepared,  in  which  the  coffins 
were  placed  side  by  side.  A  brick  arch  was  built 
over  them,  this  was  covered  with  cement  mixed  with 
small,  broken  rock. 

Two  guards  remained  on  duty  at  the  tomb  until 
the  cement  became  hard. 

The  marble  sarcophagus,  in  which  the  public  had 
supposed  the  remains  to  be  for  so  many  years,  is 
still  within  the  vault. 


MRS.  JOHNSON. 

As  Mrs.  Lincoln  sat  in  the  White  House,  half  de 
mented,  wringing  her  hands,  not  so  much  for  the 
dead  husband  as  for  the  grief  of  giving  up  what  her 
fantastic  fancy  had  ever  pictured  as  if  it  were  her  in 
heritance,  another  woman  of  an  entirely  different 
type,  advanced  to  take  her  place. 

Grief,  ill-health,  and  hardships  had  made  her  pre 
maturely  old  ;  but  for  her  husband's  sake,  she  would 
have  preferred  her  humble  home  among  her  neigh 
bors  in  the  Tennessee  mountains,  where  she  was 
born  and  married,  had  borne  and  reared  her  children. 

She  had  been  the  pretty  daughter  of  a  poor  widow, 
and,  with  the  improvidence  of  the  poor,  had  married 
at  sixteen  a  boy  of  eighteen.  He  had  come  a 
stranger  from  North  Carolina  and  worked  as  a 
journeyman  tailor  ;  belonged  to  the  class  called  the 
"  poor  whites." 

When  hardly  past  infancy,  his  father  was  drowned, 
and  until  he  learned  his  trade,  his  mother  had  sup 
ported  him  by  the  hard  labor  of  her  own  hands.  His 
thoughts  turned  to  love  early  ;  before  he  emigrated 
to  Tennessee,  he  had  won  the  promise  of  a  young 
girl,  but  her  father  set  him  aside  as  too  young,  and 

344 


MRS.    JOHNSON.  345 

forced  his  daughter  to  take  back  her  troth.  In  emi 
grating,  the  boy,  with  real  manliness  and  filial  affec 
tion,  had  taken  his  mother  with  him,  saying  his  turn 
had  come  to  support  her. 

He  could  neither  read  nor  write  ;  while  learning 
his  trade,  he  had,  by  the  aid  of  the  other  apprentices, 
mastered  the  alphabet.  A  philanthropic  missionary 
wandered  among  the  Tennessee  mountains,  and, 
wherever  he  went,  tried  to  rouse  a  desire  for  mental 
improvement  among  the  young  men  —  pictured  the 
advantages  of  learning,  and  the  assistance  it  would 
be  in  advancingthem  in  life. 

This  tailor  drank  in  every  word  and  formed  heroic 
resolves.  His  young  wife  was  his  superior  in  literary 
attainments,  and  she  became  his  teacher  in  reading, 
writing,  and  arithmetic.  The  working  days  were 
long,  not  ten  hours  as  now.  The  wife  would  hurry 
through  the  household  tasks  to  attend  her  pupil-hus 
band  in  the  evenings.  If  we  may  judge  from  his 
progress,  either  she  was  a  remarkable  teacher,  or  he 
was  a  remarkable  scholar ;  later  days  and  events 
show  that  both  were  remarkable. 

Words  came  easily  to  his  lips,  and  the  towns-people 
soon  dubbed  him  with  the  name  of  Demosthenes.  At 
twenty,  he  was  an  alderman  of  the  little  city  of 
Greenville,  and  two  years  later,  mayor;  at  twenty- 
seven,  in  the  state  legislature  ;  at  thirty-five,  mem- 
t 
ber  of  the  lower  house  in  Congress ;  at  forty-five 


346  MRS.    JOHNSON. 

Governor  of  Tennessee,  twice  elected,  and  thrice 
United  States  senator.  Surely,  Andrew  Johnson 
had  been  no  common  boy. 

He  boasted  of,  indeed,  gloried  in  his  humble  trade, 
seemed  to  think  it  had  the  patent  of  nobility  upon  it, 
and  bespoke  the  respect  due  to  age,  inasmuch  as  it 
was  Adam's  trade,  the  first  manual  work  of  which  we 
read. 

That  went  a  little  too  far  for  the  rest  of  the  world, 
who  had  always  considered  Adam's  stitching  of  fig 
leaves  an  act  of  shame ;  and,  when  cursed  or  blessed 
with  legitimate  work,  was  a  tiller  of  the  soil. 

It  was  natural,  however,  that  this  man  should  pride 
himself  upon  his  ability  to  step  from  so  humble  an 
origin  to  the  high  plane  upon  which  he  stood  beside 
the  educated  and  the  learned. 

While  governor,  he  cut  and  made  a  suit  of  clothes 
for  the  governor  of  Kentucky,  and  sent  it  as  a  gift. 
The  friend  was  a  blacksmith  by  trade,  and  he  re 
turned  the  favor  with  a  pair  of  shovel  and  tongs, 
forged  by  himself. 

Johnson,  like  Jackson  was  a  North  Carolinian,  and 
in  the  senate  he  had  fought  secession  as  Jackson 
would  have  fought  it.  He  was  the  only  senator  from 
the  seceded  states  who  retained  his  seat,  and  was  wiser 
than  the  Southern  leaders  ;  knew  if  it  came  to  war, 
the  South  were  to  be  the  losers.  He  used  no  fine 
terms ;  rebellion  he  called  treason,  and  the  leaders, 


MRS.    JOHNSON.  347 

traitors.  "  Were  I  the  President,"  he  said,  "  I  would 
have  every  one  arrested,  tried,  and  if  convicted  (em 
phasized  with  a  big  round  oath),  they  should  hang  as 
high  as  Haman." 

The  fire-eaters  were  in  a  blaze  of  fury  ;  burned  him 
in  effigy,  and  threatened  him  with  lynching  ;  even  a 
price  was  set  upon  his  head. 

Lincoln  appointed  him  military  governor  of  Ten 
nessee  and  he  entered  upon  his  Jacksonian  methods 
with  vigor.  The  mayor  and  common  council  of 
Nashville,  with  the  editors,  were  in  the  penitentiary 
at  once. 

He  issued  an  order  declaring  that  if  one  Union 
man  be  maltreated,  five  rebels  shall  be  seized,  impris 
oned  and  suffer  the  full  rigor  of  the  law.  If  Union 
property  be  destroyed,  rebel  property  shall  make  it 
good,  with  pressed  down  measure. 

Then  came  a  still  more  stringent  order.  If  a  dis 
loyal  word  be  spoken,  the  offender  shall  take  the  oath 
of  allegiance  to  the  Union,  give  bonds  in  one  thou 
sand  dollars  for  keeping  quiet,  or  otherwise  be  sent 
South,  and  if  such  an  one  ever  came  again  within 
Federal  lines  was  to  be  hung. 

Six  clergyman  were  charged  with  preaching 
treason  from  their  pulpits,  and  these  were  added  to 
the  number  behind  the  bars. 

The  city  was  besieged  by  the  rebel  army,  and 
some  would  fain  surrender,  lest  worse  might  come. 


348  MRS.    JOHNSON. 

"I  am  no  military  man,"  thundered  Johnson,  "but 
any  one  who  talks  of  surrender,  I  will  shoot." 

One  so  loyal,  so  bold,  won  the  hearts  of  the  Re 
publicans,  and  he  was  put  on  the  same  ticket  with 
Lincoln  for  his  second  term. 

When  the  intelligence  reached  Nashville,  he  was 
asked  to  address  a  mass  meeting  which  had  assem 
bled  to  ratify  his  nomination. 

In  his  speech,  he  said  :  "  Slavery  is  dead.  I  told 
you  long  ago  what  the  end  would  be  if  you  tried  to 
go  out  of  the  Union  to  save  slavery,  —  that  the  end 
would  be  bloodshed,  rapine,  devastated  fields,  plun 
dered  villages  and  cities  ;  and  therefore  I  urged  you 
to  remain  in  the  Union.  In  trying  to  save  slavery, 
you  killed  it  and  lost  your  own  freedom.  Your  slav 
ery  is  dead  ;  but  I  did  not  murder  it.  As  Macbeth 
said  to  Banqud's  bloody  ghost, 

'  Thou  canst  not  say  I  did  it : 
Never  shake  thy  gory  locks  at  me.' " 

Lincoln  seemed  tame,  inert,  beside  this  man  of 
might.  Johnson  had  in  his  own  family  suffered  grave 
injuries  from  the  rebel  troops.  His  household  was 
made  up  of  women  and  children,  and  they  were 
ordered  from  their  home.  Women  of  the  North  and 
those  out  of  the  military  districts  of  the  South  can 
form  little  conception  of  the  sufferings  and  anxieties 
of  those  exposed  to  the  mercies  of  the  troops. 


MRS.    JOHNSON.  349 

Mrs.  Johnson  spent  two  months  of  the  spring  of 
1 86 1  with  her  husband  at  Washington,  but  her  fail 
ing  health  unfitted  her  for  hotel  life,  and  she  returned 
to  her  home  among  the  mountains.  At  that  time, 
none  thought  things  would  come  to  the  pass  they 
did. 

In  the  spring  of  1862,  East  Tennessee  was  in  the 
hands  of  the  rebels.  Mrs.  Johnson,  with  her  fam 
ily,  were  ordered  by  General  Kirby  Smith  to  leave 
their -home  and  pass  beyond  the  lines  in  thirty-six 
hours.  She  was  too  ill  to  obey,  and  the  rebels  merci 
fully  allowed  her  a  respite. 

In  the  autumn,  she,  with  her  children  and  her  son-in- 
law,  Mr.  Stover,  started  for  Nashville.  The  rebels  held 
Murfreesboro,  and  for  Union  people  there  were  no 
accommodations.  They  wandered  about  in  the  night, 
asking  for  food  and  shelter  ;  as  they  were  plodding 
back  to  the  station,  which  was  a  long  way  from  the 
town,  one  woman  with  a  soft,  pitiful  heart,  yet  full  of 
terror  lest  her  mercy  should  be  her  ruin,  offered  them 
shelter,  if  they  would  leave  at  dawn.  An  order  to  go 
back  to  Greenville  awaited  them  at  the  station  ;  they 
could  not  pass  the  lines.  Back  they  started ;  Mrs.  John 
son  was  in  constant  terror  lest  her  sons  and  son-in-law 
would  be  shot  before  her  eyes,  for  again  and  again  it 
was  threatened.  Somehow,  a  friend  got  a  pass  for 
them  to  go  to  Nashville,  which  was  within  the  Union 
lines.  A  second  night  they  were  at  Murfreesboro  ; 


35O  MRS.    JOHNSON. 

this  time  they  did  not  try  the  hospitalities  of  the 
town,  but  remained  at  the  station  through  the  night, 
without  food  or  beds,  save  some  dry  bread  for  the  lit 
tle  ones. 

A  noted  rebel,  who  had  known  them  in  happier 
days,  pitied  the  helpless  women,  and  telegraphed  to 
Richmond  for  a  safe-conduct. 

Mr.  Johnson  awaited  them  at  Nashville,  though 
they  had  been  told  repeatedly  that  he  was  killed. 
For  many  months  Mrs.  Johnson  never  left  her  room. 
Some  time  after  their  arrival,  her  daughter,  Mrs.  Pat 
terson,  with  her  children,  passed  through  the  military 
lines,  and  the  family  were  united.  A  terrible  grief 
was  in  store  for  them.  A  son,  who  was  a  surgeon  in 
the  army,  was  thrown  from  his  horse  and  instantly 
killed. 

When  the  military  governor  was  chosen  vice-presi 
dent,  he  went  to  Washington,  and  the  family  were 
about  to  return  to  their  home  in  Greenville,  but  the 
fatal  Good  Friday  came,  with  its  awful  tragedy,  and 
they  went  to  Washington  instead. 

Mrs.  Patterson  was  the  oldest  of  the  five  children  ; 
the  poverty  and  cares  of  her  parents  in  their  early 
married  life  had  imposed  such  serious  burdens  upon 
this  daughter,  that  she  seemed  from  childhood  unlike 
other  girls;  she  said  herself,  she  never  had  time  to 
play.  When  her  father  was  chosen  senator,  he 
brought  her  to  Washington,  and  placed  her  at  the 


MRS.    JOHNSON.  351 

famous  Academy  of  the  Visitation  at  Georgetown, 
where  so  many  of  the  senator's  daughters  were  edu 
cated. 

While  Mr.  Johnson  was  in  the  service  of  the  state, 
his  family  spent  some  time  with  him  in  Nashville  and 
made  acquaintance  with  Mrs.  Polk  ;  when  Miss  Mar 
tha  came  to  Washington,  she  gave  her  a  standing  in 
vitation  to  spend  her  holidays  at  the  Executive  Man 
sion  ;  though  the  lady  was  very  kind,  she  was  so 
stately,  and  the  house  was  conducted  in  so  ceremo 
nious  and  so  grave  a  manner,  that  these  visits  were 
dreaded  seasons  for  the  shy  country  girl.  Her  edu 
cation  finished,  she  returned  home,  and  five  years 
later  married  Judge  Patterson.  The  wedding  trip 
was  to  Nashville  at  the  time  her  father  was  governor, 
and  then  extended  through  the  Southern  states. 
After  joining  her  family  at  Nashville,  in  1863,  Rebel 
and  Union  armies  by  turns  held  East  Tennessee,  and 
the  entire  contents  of  her  house  were  destroyed.  Mrs. 
Polk  in  her  carriage  joined  the  procession  in  honor  of 
Lincoln  when  the  funeral  cortege  passed  through  Nash 
ville,  and  Mrs.  Patterson  was  by  her  side. 

In  June,  the  president's  family  joined  him  in  Wash 
ington.  The  White  House,  after  all  the  sad  scenes 
enacted  in  it,  was  dirty  and  dilapidated.  Mrs.  John 
son  never  appeared  in  society  but  once,  and  that  was 
at  a  party  given  by  her  grandchildren,  and  her  care 
worn,  pale  face,  and  sunken  eyes  attested  that  she 


352  '  MRS.   JOHNSON. 

was  physically  unable  to  preside  over  the  Executive 
Mansion  or  receive  its  guests. 

Those  who  thought  the  President's  family  were  to 
be  a  weight  upon  him,  were  little  acquainted  with 
his  daughters.  Mrs.  Patterson  was  reserved,  dig 
nified,  possessed  all  the  mental  characteristics  cf 
her  father,  and  upon  her  devolved  the  social  duties 
of  the  White  House.  She  could  hardly  be  called  a 
novice,  for  in  her  frequent  visits  with  Mrs.  Polk 
she  had  become  acquainted  with  Mrs.  Madison,  the 
Blairs,  and  many  others  of  the  old  families,  who 
gladly  welcomed  her  return  to  the  capital. 

When  some  of  the  new  leaders  of  Washington 
society  tendered  patronage,  Mrs.  Patterson  quietly 
remarked  :  "We  are  a  plain  people  from  the  moun 
tains  of  East  Tennessee,  called  here  for  a  short  time 
by  a  national  calamity,  but  we  know  our  position  and 
know  how  to  maintain  it." 

When  interviewed  by  a  reporter,  she  said:  "We 
are  a  plain  people,  sir,  from  the  mountains  of  Ten 
nessee,  and  we  do  not  propose  to  put  on  airs  be 
cause  we  have  the  fortune  to  occupy  this  place  for 
a  little  while."  In  this  dignified  manner  she  dis 
armed  criticism  and  repulsed  impertinence. 

On  New  Year's  Day,  1866,  the  President  held  his 
first  reception,  assisted  by  both  his  daughters,  who 
were  dressed  richly,  but  very  simply.  Mrs.  Stover 
was  a  "blonde  of  the  statuesque  style,  and  looked 


MRS.    JOHNSON.  353 

very  lovely  in  the  mourning  she  wore  for  her  hus 
band,  who  had  died  two  years  before. 

In  the  spring,  Congress  appropriated  thirty  thou 
sand  dollars  for  renovating  the  mansion.  It  was  a 
very  small  sum  for  the  needs,  but  Mrs.  Patterson's 
good  taste  and  prudence  in  buying  made  it  look 
handsomer  than  ever  it  had  in  times  past.  The 
traditional  colors  were  preserved  in  the  drawing- 
rooms,  the  walls  were  panelled  in  gilt  mouldings,  and 
the  furniture  was  far  more  elegant  than  that  which  it 
had  replaced.  She  kept  the  rooms  ornamented  with 
a  profusion  of  rare  flowers,  and  they  were  always 
ready  to  be  seen  by  the  crowds  who  came  daily. 

The  State  dinners  were  particularly  elegant,  and 
conducted  on  a  generous,  princely  scale. 

She  confined  herself  exclusively  to  the  social  duties, 
and  never  could  be  induced  to  use  her  influence  in 
official  affairs.  When  the  unhappy  Anna  Surratt 
threw  herself  prostrate  upon  one  of  the  floors  of 
an  ante-room  in  the  White  House,  begging  to  see 
Mrs.  Patterson,  she  said :  "  Tell  the  girl  she  has  my 
sympathy,  my  tears,  but  I  have  no  more  right  to 
speak  than  the  servants  of  the  house." 

During  the  impeachment,  she  was  particularly  dig 
nified  and  reticent,  went  on  calmly  fulfilling  her 
duties,  saying,  "  we  have  nothing  to  do  but  wait." 
Johnson  was  not  a  drinking  man,  but  unfortunately, 
not  feeling  well,  he  took  two  glasses  of  brandy,  and 


354  MRS-  JOHNSON. 

came  to  take  the  oath  of  office  as  vice-president  in  a 
state  of  extreme  intoxication,  disgracing  himself  and 
his  high  position.  Lincoln  had  known  the  man  for 
years,  and  comforted  a  Republican  bowed  with 
shame,  by  saying,  "he  (Johnson)  made  a  slip,  but 
don't  be  scared,  Andy  ain't  a  drunkard."  This 
"slip"  occasioned  much  unfavorable  comment,  and 
in  his  unpopular  career  he  was  often  taunted  with  it. 
Three  hours  after  the  death  of  Lincoln,  he  took  the 
oath  of  office,  and  quietly  assumed  the  duties  of  the 
Presidency. 

The  difficulties  of  Johnson's  administration  grew 
out  of  a  difference  of  opinion  between  himself  and 
Congress  upon  the  reconstruction  of  the  states. 
When  traitors  rioted  in  their  treason,  and  flaunted 
their  rebellious  sentiments  in  the  Senate  as  they 
were  retiring,  Andrew  Johnson  roared  defeat  to 
secession,  and  defence  of  the  Union  into  their  ears, 
while  Northern  men  stood  shaking  with  their  fears, 
but  now  his  measures  were  softer  toward  the  "  err 
ing  sisters  "  than  Congress  approved.  He  wished 
to  grant  pardons  and  receive  states  as  if  the  execu 
tive  power  were  supreme  ;  on  the  other  hand,  it  was 
claimed  that  Congress  alone  had  the  power  to  make 
conditions  for  the  re-admission  of  the  seceded  states, 
and  many  were  inclined  to  make  the  way  of  the 
transgressors  very  hard,  and  the  conditions  severe. 

It  was  war  to  the  hilt  between  the  President  and 


MRS.    JOHNSON.  355 

Congress  ;  the  latter  would  pass  bills  and  the  former 
would  veto  them,  and  again  Congress  would  pass 
them  over  the  President's  veto,  asserting  that  he 
had  broken  his  promises  and  betrayed  his  friends. 

They  surrounded  him  with  hedges  and  ditches, 
but  Andrew  Johnson,  to  have  his  own  head,  had 
spirit  enough  to  break  through  the  densest  hedges, 
and  bridge  the  broadest  ditches.  The  obstructions 
themselves  seemed  to  rouse  the  natural  obstinacy 
of  the  man,  and  a  defiance  of  all  control. 

When  he  would  remove  one  of  his  cabinet  in 
violation  of  what  was  called  the  Tenure  of  Office 
Bill,  which  he  had  vetoed,  Congress  cast  off  all  re 
straint,  and  ordered  that  he  be  impeached  for  high 
crimes  and  misdemeanors. 

After  a  tedious  three  months'  trial,  he  was  ac 
quitted  by  a  single  vote,  which  was  said  to  have 
been  given,  lest  worse  might  come  through  Mr. 
Wade,  who  would  fill  his  place. 

The  objectionable  and  discomfited  Secretary  of 
War,  Stanton,  resigned,  and  Evarts,  who  had  de 
fended  the  President,  was  appointed  in  his  place. 

Johnson's  best  friends  had  not  approved  his  course, 
but  they  manfully  defended  him  from  the  charge  of 
conspiring  to  sell  the  fruits  of  the  war  to  the  South, 
or,  in  other  words,  of  having  turned  traitor. 

The  English  and  French  had  refrained  from  active 
intervention  in  favor  of  the  Confederate  States,  but 


356  MRS.    JOHNSON. 

the  latter  had  taken  advantage  of  our  divided  house 
hold  to  attempt  a  settlement  upon  the  American 
Continent,  and  an  Archduke  of  Austria  had  been 
chosen  Emperor  of  Mexico.  At  the  time,  the 
United  States  government  had  made  as  strong  an 
effort  as  they  were  able,  to  enforce  the  Monroe 
doctrine,  but  upon  the  surrender  at  Appomattox, 
the  dream  of  dominion  upon  American  soil  faded 
from  the  mind  of  Napoleon  III.,  and  the  French 
troops  were  withdrawn,  leaving  the  luckless  Maxi 
milian  to  his  fate.  If  the  United  States  government 
had  interceded,  he  would  probably  have  been  saved, 
but  it  was  thought  wise  that  foreign  potentates 
should  understand  that  the  Monroe  Doctrine  would 
be  enforced  to  the  letter. 

The  Indians  in  the  southwest  were,  suppressed  by 
General  Sheridan,  and  the  Fenians  coming  over  the 
Canadian  border,  bent  on  some  mad  scheme  for 
delivering  Ireland  from  British  rule,  by  General 
Meade. 

No  wonder  that  the  massive,  resolute  face  of  the 
inflexible  President  grew  haggard,  and  his  four  years 
of  office  turned  him  into  an  old  man,  for,  with  all 
these  cares  and  anxieties,  he  kept  up  his  impotent 
conflict  with  Congress. 

However,  there  were  some  very  notable  events  in 
his  administration,  which  savored  only  of  peace  and 
good  will.  By  diplomacy  and  money,  the  country 


MRS.    JOHNSON.  357 

was  enlarged  by  the  five  hundred  thousand  square 
miles  of  Alaska.  A  Chinese  Embassy  came  for  the 
first  time,  granting  the  government  immense  com 
mercial  advantages,  and  the  people  liberty  to  pray 
and  worship  among  the  sons  of  Confucius,  according 
to  our  own  customs. 

Perhaps  the  most  wonderful  achievement  of  all 
was  the  successful  laying  of  the  Atlantic  cable  by 
Cyrus  W,  Field. 

Slavery  was  entirely  abolished,  and  civil  rights 
given  to  the  blacks. 

The  President's  gracious  Christmas  gift  in  1868, 
was  a  full  pardon  to  all,  save  the  President  of  the 
Confederacy,  who  had  taken  part  in  the  rebellion. 
The  interest  on  the  immense  public  debt  was 
promptly  met,  and  many  round  millions  paid  upon 
the  principal. 

Out  of  the  thirty-four  states,  all  but  three  were  in 
amicable  relations  with  the  government,  and  for  the 
presidency,  as  well  as  Congressmen,  to  represent 
themselves,  voted  just  the  same,  as  if  they  had  not 
hustled  out  of  the  Union  eight  years  before. 

Surely  it  was  an  administration  fraught  with  great 
events  successfully  brought  to  a  close.  Notwith 
standing  the  ruin  and  destruction  by  the  war,  the 
country  was  prosperous. 

The  bullet  of  an  assassin  had  placed  Andrew 
Johnson  in  the  presidential  chair,  but  the  voice  of 


358  MRS.    JOHNSON. 

the  nation  was  that  he  had  not  honored  his  high 
office.  His  own  party  would  not  nominate  him,  his 
best  friends  had  become  his  most  bitter  foes,  and  he 
sank  into  obscurity. 

General  Grant  was  his  successor,  and  the  two 
were  at  variance.  Johnson  had  once  impugned  the 
honor  of  the  soldier,  which  had  so  offended  him  that 
on  the  day  of  his  inauguration,  he  refused  to  ride  in 
the  same  carriage  with  him. 

The  family  had  no  sooner  returned  to  their  home 
among  the  Tennessee  mountains,  than  a  terrible 
domestic  affliction  fell  upon  them.  A  second  time 
death  came  like  a  thief  in  the  night,  and  snatched 
one  of  their  number  when  in  perfect  health.  A  son 
was  walking  in  the  street  at  five  o'clock,  and  at 
eleven  mysteriously  died. 

The  cares  of  office  and  the  discordant  tumult  in 
which  Andrew  Johnson  had  lived,  seriously  impaired 
his  health. 

After  a  retirement  of  six  years  he  was  elected 
United  States  Senator  from  Tennessee. 

He  took  his  seat  March  4,  1875,  and  died  in  the 
summer  at  his  home,  soon  after  the  adjournment  of 
Congress. 

The  invalid  wife  whom  he  had  so  tenderly  guarded 
outlived  him,  reaching  the  allotted  span  of  three 
score  years  and  ten. 


MRS.   GRANT. 

IN  the  first  quarter  of  the  present  century  there 
was  a  man  in  Ohio,  of  Scotch  descent,  who  had  three 
sons.  The  man  was  a  tanner  by  trade,  and  would 
fain  have  brought  up  his  sons  to  the  same  business, 
but  the  eldest  had  no  mind  to  be  a  tanner.  He  had 
been  a  hard-working  boy,  with  no  advantages  but  the 
common  village  school,  which  was  only  open  three 
months  in  winter. 

The  father  had  no  means  of  helping  him  outside 
of  his  own  career,  but  if  he  could  gain  admittance  to 
the  Military  Academy  at  West  Point,  government 
would  support,  educate,  and  teach  him  a  trade, 
whereby  he  might  earn  his  own  living.  The  boy 
proved  to  have  fine  abilities,  and  this  economical 
plan  was  successfully  carried  out.  He  had  been 
named  Hiram  to  please  his  grandfather,  and  Ulysses 
to  please  his  grandmother,  whose  fancy  had  been 
taken  by  the  story  of  Penelope,  who,  to  keep  off 
suitors,  sat  for  twenty  years  among  her  maidens 
unravelling  by  night  what  she  had  done  in  the  day, 
feeling  sure,  if  she  were  patient  and  faithful,  her 
great  husband,  the  Grecian  Ulysses,  would  come 
back  to  her ;  the  boy's  surname  was  Grant. 

359 


360  MRS.    GRANT. 

By  some  mistake  of  the  congressman  who  ap 
pointed  him  to  a  cadetship,  the  War  Department 
entered  his  name  as  Ulysses  Simpson,  and  as  it  is 
made  up  of  a  class  who  are  too  busy  to  be  bothered 
with  trifles,  his  name  was  as  fixed  as  if  he  had  been 
christened  thus  ;  he  was  never  christened  at  all,  so 
it  didn't  much  matter. 

At  the  end  of  the  four  years'  course,  he  was  sent, 
with  the  rank  of  second  lieutenant,  to  Jefferson 
Barracks,  the  largest  military  post  in  the  country, 
near  St.  Louis,  to  watch  and  keep  in  place  the  vaga 
bond  and  exasperated  Indians.  It  was  a  monoto 
nous,  dreary  life,  and  for  a  time  the  young  man 
rather  chafed  under  it,  but  fate  opened  a  way  to 
lighten  it. 

One  of  Lieutenant  Grant's  classmates  at  West 
Point  was  Fred  T.  Dent,  whose  family  lived  on  an 
estate  called  White  Haven,  only  five  miles  from  the 
barracks.  It  consisted  of  his  parents,  two  bachelor 
brothers,  and  a  couple  of  misses  still  in  short  dresses. 
Often  did  the  young  soldiers  of  the  garrison  gallop 
across  country  and  have  a  taste  of  domestic  pleas 
ures.  In  the  winter,  a  seventeen-year-old  daughter, 
Miss  Julia,  just  out  of  the  schoolroom  at  St.  Louis, 
came  home.  The  house  was  none  the  less  attract 
ive,  for  the  girl  was  full  of  life,  high  spirits,  and 
gladly  joined  in  the  rides  and  walks  of  the  young 
men. 


MRS.    GRANT.  361 

Lieutenant  Grant  had  a  furlough,  which  he  em 
ployed  to  visit  his  parents  in  Ohio  ;  while  there,  he 
heard  that  his  regiment  was  ordered  to  Fort  Jessup 
in  Louisiana  to  form  a  part  of  General  Taylor's 
army,  which  was  gathering  to  provoke,  if  possible, 
a  war  with  Mexico.  He  had  chafed  under  the  garri 
son  life  at  Jefferson  Barracks  and  longed  for  more 
active  service ;  the  active  service  loomed  before  him 
and  he  shrank  from  it.  Why  ?  The  old  story,  not 
as  old  as  Adam,  who  never  went  a  wooing,  but  old 
as  Cain,  who  did.  A  girl  had  coiled  herself  around 
his  heart ;  he  did  not  know  nor  even  suspect  that 
the  coil  was  clasped  until  these  orders  came.  He  was 
tormented  with  fear,  lest  the  girl  had  never  given 
him  a  thought,  might  reject  a  plea  if  he  made  it. 

To  dars  and  to  do  began  with  Cupid  before  it 
began  with  Mars  and  with  as  much  determined  per 
tinacity —  perhaps,  however,  his  natural  coolness 
played  him  false  with  the  former.  In  a  state  of 
suppressed  excitement  he  mounted  his  horse;  the 
short  cut  to  White  Haven  was  crossed  by  a  fordable 
creek  or  river,  which  at  that  time  was  dangerously 
swollen  by  a  heavy  rain. 

Grant  was  a  man  who  had  his  superstitions,  and 
one  was,  that  if  you  wish  to  do  a  thing  successfully, 
do  it,  with  never  a  step  backward.  He  was  too 
modest  a  man  to  hope  for  an  easy  triumph,  and  in 
business  so  momentous  as  this  it  would  never  do  to 


362  MRS.    GRANT. 

have  a  "sign"  against  him.  He  was  a  bold  horse 
man  and  into  the  current  he  rode;  it  was  well  that 
he  was  a  bold  swimmer,  too,  for  he  was  soon  breast 
ing  the  current,  as  well  as  the  horse.  They  were 
swept  down  the  stream,  but  he  had  the  animal  by 
the  bridle  and  you  may  be  sure  he  headed  him 
toward  White  Haven,  where  he  astonished  the 
family  by  his  half-drowned  appearance. 

One  of  the  young  gentlemen  came  to  his  rescue, 
and  in  dry,  but  ill-fitting  habiliments,  he  partially 
explained  his  foolhardy  attempt.  He  never  could 
make  a  speech,  but  when  he  found  Miss  Julia  alone, 
he  uttered  some  jargon,  that  would  have  been  unin 
telligible  if  it  had  been  heard  by  her  mother,  but 
quickening  heart  beats  in  her  own  bosom  gave  the 
girl  marvellous  powers  of  comprehension.  If  she 
didn't  say  yes,  she  acknowledged  she  had  been 
depressed  since  she  heard  that  the  regiment  had 
marching  orders,  and  now  that  he  had  half  drowned 
himself  for  her  sake  she  could  not  but  admit  that 
the  depression  was  only  on  account  of  one  soldier, 
and  he  was  that  one. 

Perhaps  this  was  as  much  as  was  maidenly  for  a 
girl  of  seventeen,  especially  as  the  matter  was  not  to 
be  referred  to  her  father.  Though  the  whole  thing 
was  irregular,  the  young  soldier  sailed  down  the 
Mississippi  with  the  light,  happy  heart  of  a  suc 
cessful  wooer. 


MRS.    GRANT.  363 

The  parents  had  not  been  quite  so  blind  as  the 
pair  thought,  and  they  deprecated  what  they  saw,  for 
the  young  man  was  not  particularly  prepossessing, 
nor  did  his  prospects  seem  brilliant ;  however,  the 
acquaintance  was  very  brief,  and  then  there  were  the 
chances  of  war ;  for  the  love  affairs  of  a  chit  of 
seventeen,  they  would  cross  no  bridge,  until  they 
saw  the  timbers  laid.  The  girl  kept  her  own  counsel 
and  her  constancy. 

Lieutenant  Dent  nearly  lost  his  life ;  was  only 
saved  by  the  aid  of  his  friend,  who  risked  his  own, 
and  he  wrote  home  a  glowing  account  of  the  affair, 
which  of  course  won  the  gratitude  of  his  parents. 

General  Taylor's  army  was  first  called  an  Army  of 
Observation,  then  an  Army  of  Occupation,  and  when 
the  Mexicans  were  goaded  to  extremities,  an  Army  of 
Invasion  ;  before  it  assumed  this  latter  name,  with 
the  duties  it  involved,  Lieutenant  Grant  asked  for  a 
short  furlough.  His  engagement  was  not  quite  on  a 
footing  that  pleased  him,  and  a  longing  to  see  Miss 
Dent  before  entering  upon  actual  war  made  him 
restive.  Again  he  astonishes  the  family  at  White 
Haven,  but  this  time  in  proper  military  trim.  He 
plucks  up  courage  to  interview  the  father  and  when 
he  leaves  an  engagement  en  regie  was  admitted  and 
announced. 

The  regiment  took  part  in  the  battles  of  Palo  Alto, 
Resaca  de  la  Palma,  and  Montery ;  before  Buena 


364  MRS.    GRANT. 

Vista  was  fought,  they  were  sent  to  General  Scott, 
who  was  making  his  way  to  the  Mexican  capital. 
Several  times  did  the  services  of  Lieutenant  Grant 
have  honorable  mention  in  the  official  despatches. 

Upon  the  return  of  the  regiment  in  1848,  Lieuten 
ant  Grant  married  Miss  Dent  and  after  his  four 
months'  furlough,  spent  in  visiting  took  her  to  the 
barracks  at  Sackett's  Harbor,  a  military  post  on  Lake 
Ontario  and  thence  to  Detroit.  After  testing:  the 

o 

pleasures  and  discomforts  of  garrison  life,  Mrs.  Grant 
paid  a  visit  to  her  home  at  White  Haven,  where  a 
son  was  born. 

In  1852,  the  Fourth  Infantry,  to  which  Grant  be 
longed,  was  ordered  to  the  wilds  of  Oregon.  It  was 
not  advisable  to  take  his  wife,  and  he  left  her  for  a 
time  with  his  family,  from  whence  she  was  to  go  to 
her  own  relatives. 

Camp  life  in  time  of  peace  was  ever  irksome  to 
Grant,  and  added  to  the  separation  from  his  family 
seemed  insupportable  ;  though  he  had  been  promoted 
to  the  rank  of  captain,  he  resigned  and  came  home. 
He  was  poor,  had  no  prospects,  and  his  family  was 
increased  by  the  birth  of  a  second  son. 

Mrs.  Grant  owned  some  land  near  St.  Louis ; 
thither  he  went,  and  with  his  own  hands  put  up  a 
house  which  sheltered  them  from  the  weather;  then 
he  began  farming.  It  was  not  that  he  shirked  hon 
est  work  —  would  cut,  load,  and  draw  his  wood  to 


MRS.    GRANT.  365 

market,  like  any  practical  farmer ;  but  there  was  no 
aptitude  in  the  man  for  business  or  money  making. 
The  farm  in  his  hands  began  to  run  behindhand,  and 
the  poor  locality  brought  on  fever  and  ague,  which 
incapacitated  him  from  work. 

His  wife's  family  did  their  best  to  prop  him  up, 
and  under  their  auspices,  he  tried  the  business  of  a 
real  estate  agent,  tax  collector,  and  auctioneer,  but 
nothing  prospered  or  afforded  support  for  his  growing 
family  —  now,  there  were  four  little  ones  to  care  for, 
and  each  was  born  in  the  home  of  his  father  or  of 
hers. 

Disheartened,  he  went  to  his  father  in  Galena  for 
counsel.  The  tannery  business  which  he  had  refused 
to  learn  when  a  boy,  was  prosperous,  and  work  in  it 
was  offered  him.  The  vats  were  no  more  to  his  lik 
ing  than  they  were  years  before  ;  indeed,  were 
doubly  distasteful  by  being  under  the  control  of  his 
younger  brothers,  but  to  gain  honest  bread  for  his 
family,  he  sacrificed  inclination,  crushed  down  pride, 
and  upon  meagre  pay  settled  at  Galena.  He  was 
not  a  Republican  ;  his  political  sympathies  were 
rather  with  the  South,  and  he  had  voted  for  Buchanan^ 
but  the  firing  upon  the  flag  at  Sumter  to  him,  as  to 
most  Northern  people,  meant  rebellion  and  treason. 

"  Uncle  Sam,"  he  said,  "educated  me  for  the  army, 
and,  although  I  have  served  faithfully  through  one 
war,  I  feel  that  I  am  still  a  little  in  debt  for  my  edu- 


366  MRS.    GRANT. 

cation,  and  I  am  ready  and  willing  to  discharge  the 
obligation." 

Step  by  step  he  rose,  and  wherever  he  went,  swept 
like  a  tornado  among  the  rebels  and  mowed  with  a 
bloody  scythe,  but  he  was  matched  with  foemen 
worthy  of  his  steel,  and  on  both  sides  priceless  blood 
flowed  like  water. 

That  miserable  four  years  of  Civil  War  seemed, 
even  to  those  far  away  from  its  horrors,  like  a  cycle 
of  time,  which  would  have  no  end. 

He,  who  had  begun  as  a  simple  volunteer  captain 
brought  it  to  a  close  at  Appomattox  with  the  rank  of 
lieutenant-general  —  rank  which  had  only  been  held 
in  our  country  by  Washington  and  Scott,  and  Scott 
only  by  brevet. 

General  Grant's  moderation  and  magnanimity  to 
the  conquered  placed  a  stamp  on  his  greatness,  even 
greater  than  his  military  skill. 

Mrs.  Grant  had  spent  much  time  at  army  head 
quarters,  but  now  a  house  was  taken  in  Washington, 
and  for  the  first  time  in  her  married  life,  a  home  and 
easy  circumstances  were  combined ;  the  next  four 
years  are  said  to  have  been  the  happiest  in  the  gen 
eral's  life.  With  honors  enough  to  sate  ambition,  an 
appointment  for  life  in  his  favorite  line,  ample  pay,  a 
pleasant  home,  —  what  more  could  man  desire?  He 
was  content,  but  not  the  Republican  party :  they 
chose  him  for  their  standard-bearer,  and  in  an  evil 


MRS.    GRANT.  367 

hour  for  his  peace  and  comfort,  he  lifted  the  standard 
aloft,  and  had  become  so  used  to  success,  that  when 
elected,  he  said  :  "  The  responsibilities  of  the  posi 
tion  I  feel,  but  I  accept  them  without  fear  ;  "  as  fear 
lessly  had  he  accepted  military  responsibility,  saying  : 
"  I  feel  as  sure  of  taking  Richmond,  as  I  do  of  dying." 

He  asked  no  counsel, —  had  no  confidants,  and 
even  playfully  teased  his  wife  about  his  fears  lest  she 
should  rise  in  the  small  hours  and  read  his  secrets. 
His  sobriquet  was  the  sphinx,  and  no  man  better 
deserved  the  title. 

Men  had  crowded  from  all  parts  of  the  country, 
and  never  was  there  a  more  imposing  display  at  the 
national  capital,  than  at  the  inauguration  of  General 
Grant.  The  day  was  wet,  bitterly  cold,  and  the  mud 
ankle  deep.  He  had  refused  to  ride  to  the  Capitol  in  the 
same  carriage  with  Johnson,  who  sat,  soured  and  sad, 
in  the  White  House,  until  the  booming  of  cannons 
warned  him  that  he  was  no  longer  master,  and  must 
give  way  to  the  man  whom  he  most  detested. 

The  new  President  began  somewhat  as  an  autocrat, 
and  had  a  plenty  of  difficulties  before  him. 

Owing  to  his  secretive  methods,  there  was  a  diffi 
culty  in  the  beginning  about  making  up  a  cabinet. 
Those  chosen,  first  read  of  their  appointments  in 
the  newspapers  after  the  inauguration  ;  one  was  in 
eligible,  some  declined  the  honor,  and  there  were  re 
peated  changes. 


368  MRS.    GRANT. 

The  Senate  had  rejected  the  Clarendon-Johnson 
treaty,  in  the  Alabama  affair,  and  unless  a  new  treaty 
could  be  arranged,  war  might  be  the  result ;  the  Eng 
lish  tories  were  doing  their  best  to  bring  it  about,  urg 
ing  a  violation  of  the  treaty  for  arbitration,  and  there 
was  much  bitter  feeling.  The  Secretary  of  State 
was  very  wise  and  very  moderate,  but  he  insisted 
that  there  should  be  on  the  part  of  England  an  ex 
pression  of  regret  for  the  escape  of  the  "  Alabama  "  and 
the  depredations  upon  our  commerce, — the  pay  for 
damages  was  to  be  an  after  consideration.  Only  those 
in  power  knew  the  ominous  size  of  the  war  cloud  — 
but  firmness  and  nice  diplomacy  dissipated  it,  and  the 
United  States,  having  but  just  emerged  from  a  civil 
war,  were  spared  a  foreign  one.  England  expressed 
proper  regret  and  awarded  fifteen  million  dollars  in 
gold  for  direct  injuries. 

At  the  time  we  acquired  Oregon,  no  one  compre 
hended  its  value,  and  now  the  English  raised  a  diffi 
culty  about  the  justice  of  the  northwestern  boundary, 
but  by  mutual  consent  the  question  was  submitted  to 
the  German  Emperor,  who  decided  in  favor  of  the 
United  States. 

The  little  republic  of  Santa  Domingo  had^  con 
quered  independence,  and  knocked  for  admission 
to  the  Union  of  the  United  States.  To  receive 
her  was  a  favorite  measure  of  the  President,  but 
Congress  took  an  opposite  view,  and  he  was  wiser 


MRS,    GRANT.  369 

than    Andrew    Johnson    in    his    dealings    with    that 
august  body. 

When  the  Spaniards,  in  their  vigilance  to  guard 
their  fairest  jewel,  fired  upon  the  United  States  flag 
on  the  high  seas,  before  any  overt  act  had  been  com 
mitted  by  the  filibusters  on  board  the  "  Virginius,"  the 
Executive  carried  a  high  hand  and  a  resolute  spirit. 
Spain  was  compelled  to  make  an  apology  and  restore 
the  vessel. 

Iron  had  forged  a  path  from  ocean  to  ocean, 
and  the  dream  of  the  fifteenth  century  was  fulfilled 
by  finding  a  short  route  to  India. 

With  no  foreign  inbroglio,  an  abandonment  of  the 
ironclad  oath,  and  an  amnesty  to  all  save  one,  an  era 
of  peace  and  prosperity  seemed  to  dawn  upon  the 
country  so  recently  rent  in  pieces  and  baptized  with 
blood.  When  one  city  fell  in  cinders,  the  South  as 
well  as  the  North  stretched  forth  a  helping  hand  ; 
surely,  the  wounds  are  all  cicatrized  and  it  is  to  be 
hoped  the  next  generation  will  see  no  scar. 

The  social  life  of  the  White  House  went  gayly  on. 
Mrs.  Grant  was  not  one  to  like  the  mansion  for  its 
associations  with  the  historic  past  —  would  have  pre 
ferred  a  new,  modern  palace,  but  she  enjoyed  her 
position  as  first  lady  and  if  not  "  to  the  manner  born," 
had  too  much  sense  of  her  own  importance  to  allow 
any  patronage. 

Coming  after  Mrs.    Lincoln  and  the  daughters  of 


3/O  MRS.    GRANT. 

Johnson,  who  lived  under  a  cloud,  and  played  their 
roles  from  duty  rather  than  inclination,  she  formed  a 
pleasing  contrast,  and  the  best  society  of  the  capital 
flocked  to  her  receptions,  where  she  introduced  the 
pretty  custom  that  still  prevails,  of  surrounding  her 
self  with  ladies  of  distinction  to  assist  in  doing  the 
honors. 

The  state  dining-room  was  frequently  opened  and 
everything  was  conducted  in  a  liberal  style.  It  is 
said  that  she  entertained  more  distinguished  guests 
than  any  who  had  preceded  her. 

Among  all  the  nations  of  Europe,  Russia  had  been 
the  most  friendly  during  the  Rebellion,  but  unfor 
tunately,  when  the  czar's  son,  the  Duke  Alexis,  came 
to  our  shores,  there  was  an  unpleasantness  with  the 
Russian  minister,  and  as  he  was  not  included  in 
the  proffered  hospitalities  of  the  Executive  Man 
sion,  the  grand  duke  declined  to  receive  them. 
The  czar  thought  it  was  not  good  treatment, 
and  said  so  plainly  to  the  American  ambassador  at 
his  court. 

Victoria's  son,  Prince  Arthur,  came,  and  he  too 
thought  proper  attention  to  his  royal  highness  was 
wanting  on  the  part  of  the  Executive.  The  beard 
less  boy  of  nineteen  expected  a  man  representing  the 
majesty  of  the  United  States,  and  old  enough  to  be 
his  father,  to  return  one  of  his  visits.  The  President 
invited  him  to  a  dinner  and  went  to  a  ball  given  in 


MRS.    GRANT.  3/1 

his  honor,  and  thought  that  it  was  not  befitting  his 
dignity  to  do  more. 

Among  the  royal  guests  came  Dom  Pedro  and 
Donna  Teresa,  who  found  no  cause  for  complaint ; 
perhaps,  because  the  blood  of  Braganza  is  regener 
ated  on  American  soil,  and  not  so  deeply  imbued 
with  divine  rights  as  that  of  European  princes. 

If  there  were  any  one  thing  in  Grant's  adminis 
tration  for  which  sober-minded  men  honored  him,  it 
was  his  veto  of  the  inflation  bill.  It  was  such  a 
party  measure  that  his  action  was  unexpected  and 
unhoped  for.  He  was  a  man  of  quick  decision,  but 
to  do  or  not  to  do  this  thing,  hung  in  the  balance  for 
nine  days  and  robbed  him  of  sleep.  Senator  Ed 
munds  came  at  the  last  moment,  ready  to  go  on  his 
knees,  if  need  were,  but  was  made  happy  by  being 
told  that  the  President  had  decided  without  regard 
to  party,  and  a  veto  was  ready. 

The  eldest  son  of  the  President  was  a  cadet  at 
West  Point. 

Miss  Nellie,  the  only  daughter,  was  placed  at  a 
boarding-school ;  but  life  at  home  with  her  saddle- 
horse,  her  pony  carriage,  and  a  plan  of  conducting 
affairs  very  much  as  she  pleased,  was  much  more  to 
her  taste,  and  she  usually  managed  to  enjoy  it.  She 
was  too  sweet  and  natural  to  be  spoiled,  and  became 
a  universal  favorite. 

Four  comparatively  quiet  years  rolled  by,  and  there 


3/2  MRS.    GRANT. 

was  to  be  another  election.  The  President  was  not 
as  popular  as  he  had  been  ;  there  were  outspoken 
charges  of  incompetency  and  nepotism,  but  he  was 
unanimously  nominated,  and  elected  by  a  large  major 
ity.  Once  more  there  was  a  grand  inauguration.  It 
fell  upon  one  of  the  coldest  days  ever  known  in 
Washington.  The  breath  of  the  musicians  con 
densed  in  the  valves  of  their  instruments.  The 
President  rode  in  his  open  barouche,  drawn  by  four 
bay  horses.  The  cadets  from  West  Point  were 
privileged  to  come  and  witness  the  honors  lavished 
upon  one  who  had  risen  from  their  ranks.  A  dis 
tinguished  feature  of  the  procession  was  the  First 
Troop  of  Philadelphia  City  cavalry,  carrying  its 
historic  flag  bearing  thirteen  stripes,  presented  in 
1778. 

There  was  no  heating  apparatus  prepared  for  the 
hall  of  the  inaugural  ball,  and  the  ladies  danced  in 
their  wraps  and  the  gentlemen  in  their  overcoats  ; 
the  ices  and  drinks  were  frozen  solid. 

Speculation  had  been  rife  for  months.  Thoughtful 
business  men  had  dimly  dreaded  a  crash,  realizing 
that  the  apparent  prosperity  was  only  seeming. 

It  was  on  the  principle  expressed  by  Lincoln's 
homely  saying,  "  never  swap  horses  in  the  middle  of 
a  stream,"  that  the  Republican  candidate  had  been 
elected.  In  the  summer  came  what  bears  the  name 
of  "the  panic  of  1873,"  as  memorable  as  that  of 


MRS.     GRANT.  373 

1837.  All  at  once  the  corruption  of  the  administra 
tion  was  unveiled.  The  details  of  whiskey  rings, 
frauds,  steals,  and  swindles,  coming  one  after  another 
appalled  the  nation.  The  President  and  his  family 
had  accepted  so  many  gifts,  that  Sumner  stamped  it 
as  "  the  epoch  of  gift  enterprises." 

It  was  at  this  time  that  Conkling  won  his  imperish 
able  renown  of  being  an  honest  man.  So  many  of  his 
peers  had  gone  down  in  the  Credit  Mobilier  Com 
pany,  that  he  seemed  to  rise  to  a  colossal  height,  to 
whom  the  nation  were  expected  to  make  obeisance, 
as  if  honesty  were  an  abnormal  trait  among  Ameri 
cans.  It  would  indeed  have  been  a  bold  man  to 
have  asked  official  action  for  private  gain  of  Roscoe 
Conkling. 

The  President  had  had  no  political  training,  and 
was  not  given  to  taking  advice  from  those  who  had. 
He  was  exonerated  from  all  personal  complicity  in 
the  frauds,  but  the  dishonor  reflected  upon  the 
administration.  Never  was  there  a  time  when  so 
many  prominent  men  were  tried  for  bribery.  The 
President  boldly  said  :  "  Let  no  guilty  man  escape," 
and  never  had  one  in  his  station  so  many  personal 
friends  behind  the  bars.  He  had,  unfortunately, 
surrounded  himself  with  men,  who,  if  they  were  born 
honest,  were  as  weak  as  Eve,  and  fell  under  the  first 
temptation. 

England  and  the  Indians  generally  loom  up  with 


374  MRS.     GRANT. 

a  difficulty  in  every  administration,  and  Grant's 
formed  no  exception  to  the  rule. 

The  Modocs  played  a  treacherous  game  in  Oregon, 
and  the  Sioux,  exasperated  by  being  driven  from  their 
reservations  by  the  white  man's  greed  for  gold, 
donned  the  war-paint  and  began  their  futile  struggle 
for  their  rights.  They  were  routed,  punished,  and 
scattered,  as  usual ;  but  the  nation  had  to  mourn  the 
loss  of  the  heroic  Custer  and  his  brave  band. 

The  centennial  observances  made  the  era  memo 
rable.  The  one  at  Philadelphia,  to  celebrate  the 
hundredth  anniversary  of  the  Declaration  of  Inde 
pendence,  brought  crowds  from  all  parts  of  the 
Union,  and  the  products  of  all  lands  to  our  shores. 

It  gave  us  an  impetus  in  decorations  and  the  arts, 
which  we  have  never  lost. 

Grant  has  been  called  the  regenerator  of  the 
national  capital.  Immense  sums  were  wisely  spent. 
The  city  was  paved,  and  the  mud  and  dust  for  which 
it  was  noted  are  things  of  the  past,  and  since,  it  has 
been  classed  among  the  most  beautiful  cities  in  the 
world. 

General  Grant  wished  for  more  power  than  he  had 
been  willing  to  accord  to  Johnson.  If  he  said  to  a 
cabinet  minister,  "Go,"  he  expected  him  to  go,  and 
didn't  like  to  turn  to  Congress  and  say,  "  by  your 
leave." 

Mrs,  Grant  was  not  a  woman  to  offensively  meddle 


MRS,    GRANT.  375 

in  official  affairs,  nor  was  the  general  a  man  to  allow 
it.  It  was  naturally  a  matter  of  pride  to  have  her 
family  provided  with  soft  places  by  her  husband, 
who  had  leaned  on  them  in  the  early  married  days, 
and  had  been  looked  upon  as  a  failure.  She  gave  a 
gay  wedding  to  Miss  Platt,  who  married  General 
Russel  Hastings. 

Miss  Nelly  was  verging  toward  womanhood  and 
was  a  cause  of  some  anxiety.  She  was  quite  be 
witching,  and  beardless  boys  flocked  admiringly 
about  her.  Perhaps  Mrs.  Grant  had  in  mind  her 
own  early  heart-giving,  and  feared  that  this  daughter 
might  give  hers,  but  not  so  wisely.  A  friend  was 
going  to  Europe,  and  it  was  planned  that  she  should 
take  this  school  girl,  or,  rather,  girl  who  wouldn't  go 
to  school,  just  to  keep  her  out  of  harm's  way. 

The  American  minister  to  St.  James's,  knowing 
what  was  exacted  when  the  royal  children  went  out 
of  the  kingdom,  determined  that  due  honor  should 
be  accorded  to  the  daughter  of  the  man  who  rep 
resented  the  majesty  of  his  own  country.  He 
informed  the  Minister  for  Foreign  Affairs  of  her 
arrival,  and  he  informed  the  Queen.  Victoria  was 
gracious,  and  sent  an  invitation  for  "  Miss  Grant  and 
the  lady  who  accompanied  her "  to  pay  a  visit  at 
Buckingham  Palace. 

There  were  garden  parties,  and  all  kinds  of  social 
gayeties  among  the  nobility,  where  Miss  Nelly  was 


3/6  MRS.    GRANT. 

treated  as  if  she  were  an  American  princess.  Had 
she  not  been  received  by  the  Queen  at  a  private 
audience  !  If  she  were  not  versed  in  conventional 
forms,  her  winsome  ways,  and  sweet,  unaffected 
manners  stood  her  in  better  stead,  and  she  was  much 
admired. 

Miss  Nelly  was  an  excellent  sailor,  knew  nothing 
of  mal  de  mer,  while  her  chaperon  on  the  return 
voyage  was  so  grievously  afflicted  with  it  that  she 
was  constantly  confined  to  her  stateroom,  the  only 
time  her  services  were  seriously  needed  by  her 
charge. 

The  mother's  plan  has  signally  failed.  An  Eng 
lish  lover  paid  his  suit,  and  Miss  Nelly  did  not  say 
him  nay.  Mr.  Algernon  Sartoris  was  the  second 
son  of  Mr.  Sartoris,  who  married  one  of  the  tal 
ented  Kemble  family ;  he  had  no  property  or  busi 
ness  prospects.  The  practical  father  of  Miss  Nelly 
would  listen  to  no  such  love  tale  as  that,  and  the 
young  gentleman  was  dismissed.  A  few  months 
later,  his  elder  brother  died.  The  English  lover 
was  now  the  heir,  and  with  bolder  mien  he  came 
again  and  stood  before  the  President,  and  asked  to 
wed  sweet  Nelly  Grant.  The  father  was  not  pleased, 
but  the  girl's  heart  had  gone  into  this  man's  keeping, 
and  it  would  be  tyranny  to  refuse  consent. 

In  May,  1874,  there  was  a  braw  wedding  at  the 
White  House ;  the  bride  was  arrayed  in  white  silk, 


MRS.    GRANT.  3/7 

trimmed  with  almost  priceless  lace,  the  gift  of  her 
father. 

"  Marry  in  May, 
Rue  it  alway." 

If  report  speak  truly,  Mrs.  Sartoris  has  a  pleas 
ant  home,  but  instead  of  being  a  cherished  wife,  is 
rather  the  beloved  daughter-in-law  of  an  old  man. 
Mr.  Algernon  Sartoris  spends  most  of  his  time 
away  from  home,  and  his  infrequent  visits  are 
hardly  a  source  of  pleasure  to  his  family. 

Mrs.  Sartoris  is  the  mother  of  three  children,  —  has 
grown  stouter  and  coarser,  and  looks  older  than  her 
years,  but  has  never  lost  her  talent  of  winning  the 
hearts  of  those  with  whom  she  comes  in  contact. 

The  cadet  at  West  Point  had  graduated,  and  after 
Mrs.  Sartoris  left,  married  Miss  Honore  of  Chicago, 
and  became  an  inmate  of  the  Executive  Mansion  ; 
in  due  time  the  family  party  was  made  up  of  three 
generations. 

The  second  term  was  drawing  to  a  close,  and 
there  was  even  the  talk  of  a  third,  but  the  prestige 
of  the  President  was  gone  ;  he  declined  to  have  his 
name  used,  and  it  was  said  that  if  the  party  were 
to  remain  in  power,  there  must  be  a  new  standard- 
bearer. 

Mrs.  Grant  loved  place  and  power,  and  was  too 
much  imbued  with  a  sense  of  her  husband's  great 
ness  and  importance  to  fear  defeat.  She  could 


MRS.    GRANT. 

hardly  forgive  him  for  having,  unknown  to  her, 
refused  to  be  a  candidate. 

The  frauds  and  corruptions  developed  in  the  ad 
ministration  told  heavily  against  the  Republican 
party,  and  the  election  was  a  hotly  contested  one, 
and  when  it  was  over,  it  was  a  disputed  one.  For 
a  time,  the  aspect  of  affairs  looked  very  critical ; 
looked  as  if  what  the  grinding  rocks  of  Scylla  had 
spared,  the  whirlpool  of  Charybdis  would  swallow. 

When  Congress  assembled,  none  knew  whom  to 
call  president-elect.  An  electoral  commission  was 
devised  to  examine  the  returns,  and  determine  the 
result,  which  was  in  favor  of  the  Republican  candi 
date,  Mr.  Hayes.  The  Democrats  felt  that  fraud 
had  been  practiced,  and  were  naturally  outraged. 
Mr.  Tilden,  their  nominee,  was  urged  to  stand  for 
his  rights,  and  the  party  would  have  endorsed  him, 
but  he  was  too  much  of  a  patriot  to  fan  the  flames 
of  a  hardly  quenched  civil  war  for  his  personal  ag 
grandizement  or  party  power.  General  Grant  took 
no  active  part  until  the  decision  was  announced. 
It  brought  the  man  into  his  natural  element.  If 
there  were  to  be  a  conflict,  he  made  ready  to  meet 
it.  There  was  no  offensive  display  of  power,  but 
there  was  a  masterly  skill  in  the  arrangement  of 
affairs  which  ensured  a  peaceful  compliance  with 
the  laws. 

Let  none  ever  doubt  the  strength  of  the  warp  and 


MRS.    GRANT.  379 

the  woof  of  our  constitutional  government.  An  ex- 
president  of  the  French  republic  said  other  gov 
ernments  might  have  coped  with  civil  war  and 
lived,  but  none  but  the  American  could  have  borne 
the  strain  of  a  disputed  election  treading  upon  the 
heels  of  the  war.  The  decision  of  the  electoral 
commission  was  given  only  three  days  before  the 
day  of  the  inauguration. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hayes  came  to  the  capital  on  the 
second  ;  General  Grant  not  only  courteously  invited 
them  to  dine  at  the  Executive  Mansion  on  the  third, 
but  to  name  the  guests  they  would  like  to  meet. 
The  fourth  came  on  Sunday,  and  as  Mr.  Hayes  had 
scruples  about  being  sworn  in  on  that  day,  the 
general  made  arrangements  that  he  should  take 
the  oath  that  Saturday  evening,  which  was  quietly 
done  in  the  Red  Room,  without  the  knowledge  of 
the  other  guests. 

Mrs.  Grant's  feelings  were  so  strong  that  she 
would  not  witness  the  inauguration  of  the  man  who 
displaced  her  husband,  yet  she  did  the  unusual  but 
graceful  thing  of  remaining  to  receive  her  successor. 
A  handsome  entertainment  was  laid  and  a  party  of 
friends  stood  ready  to  welcome  and  congratulate  the 
inaugural  company.  The  mansion  was  left  in  per 
fect  order ;  thoughtfulness  had  even  gone  so  far  as 
to  provide  a  day's  supply  for  the  table. 

As  travelling  was  General  Grant's  favorite  amuse- 


38O  MRS.    GRANT. 

merit,  he  determined,  upon  being  freed  from  the 
cares  of  office,  to  make  a  journey  round  the  world. 
Preparations  began  at  once,  and  in  May  he  sailed, 
accompanied  by  Mrs.  Grant  and  their  youngest  son, 
Jesse.  Ovations  and  honors  such  as  he  received  at 
home  awaited  him  on  English  soil.  Even  royalties 
deigned  to  entertain  him,  and  the  newspaper  accounts 
of  their  manner  of  doing  it  amused  his  countrymen. 
The  Prince  and  Princess  of  Wales  who  were  enter 
taining  the  Emperor  and  Empress  of  Brazil,  led 
royalty  in  dining  the  Amdrican  chieftain.  A  bidden 
guest  is  treated  with  honor  even  in  Arab  tents,  but 
among  the  Guelph  aristocracy  they  have  a  code  of 
their  own.  If  we  Americans  were  to  take  a  course 
of  study  on  the  divine  right  of  kings,  we  should 
never  graduate  with  honors.  The  Prince  and  Prin 
cess  tendered  no  reception  to  their  guests  upon  their 
arrival ;  no  seats  were  offered.  As  the  dinner  hour 
approached,  the  company  were  asked  to  range  them 
selves,  men  on  one  side  of  the  room,  and  women 
on  the  other,  Quaker  meeting  style  in  America. 
Between  these  lines  walked  their  Royal  Highnesses, 
mated  with  their  imperial  guests.  Donna  Teresa, 
once  politely  entertained  by  Mrs.  Grant,  put  Ameri 
can  good  manners  before  Guelph  etiquette,  and 
stopped  and  greeted  Mrs.  Grant,  but  there  was  no 
recognition  from  the  Prince,  upon  whose  arm  she 
leaned.  Royalty  conversed  with  royalty,  titled 


UNIVERSITY 

Of  / 

MRS.     GRANT.  381 

aristocracy  with  titled  aristocracy  ;  if  those  below 
that  rank  could  find  amusement  well  and  good ;  if 
not,  the  same.  The  dinner  over,  the  hostess  dis 
appeared  with  Her  Imperial  Majesty.  As  the  Gen 
eral  and  Mrs.  Grant  were  in  the  anteroom,  about  to 
don  their  wraps,  a  servant  stepped  up  and  said  the 
Princess  would  like  to  bid  Mrs.  Grant  good-night ; 
she  came  forward  and  graciously  did  it. 

Commend  us  to  those  Hanoverian  Guelphs  for 
bad  manners.  Alas  that  the  sweet  Danish  princess 
should  have  imbibed  them  ! 

The  next  royal  dinner  offered  was  by  the  Queen 
herself  at  Windsor,  which  included  an  invitation  to 
pass  the  night.  If  the  visit  were  not  conducted 
according  to  the  highest  code  of  American  polite 
ness,  there  was  none  of  the  ill-breeding  shown  in  the 
household  of  the  Prince. 

The  Queen's  carriages  awaited  the  guests  at  the 
station.  Arriving  at  the  castle,  they  were  informed 
that  the  Queen  was  out  driving.  It  looked  as  if 
their  former  experiences  were  to  be  repeated.  How 
ever,  when  Her  Majesty  did  come,  she  was  very 
gracious,  greeted  and  conversed  with  each  in  the 
kindest  manner,  and  it  is  said  when  Victoria  means 
to  be  kind,  she  has  a  winning  smile  and  a  royal 
grace  of  manner  which  is  irresistible.  At  dinner, 
General  Grant  was  asked  to  take  in  one  of  her 
daughters  and  he  sat  but  two  removes  from  the 


382  MRS.     GRANT. 

Queen.  No  place  of  honor  was  accorded  Mrs. 
Grant. 

A  little  difficulty  arose,  which  nearly  sent  the 
party  dinnerless  back  to  London.  Master  Jesse 
was  told  that  he  was  not  to  dine  with  the  Queen, 
but  in  another  room,  with  the  ladies  and  gentlemen 
of  the  household ;  he  insisted  that  he  would  dine 
with  his  hostess  or  not  dine  at  Windsor  at  all.  The 
matter  was  referred  to  Her  Majesty,  who  with  tact 
and  good  sense  admitted  the  boy  to  her  table. 
There  is  an  apology  for  the  seeming  discourtesy 
of  the  Queen.  Master  Jesse  had  not  been  included 
in  the  invitation  to  his  parents,  but  they  had  allowed 
a  request  to  be  made  that  he  might  be  added  to  the 
party,  which  was  hardly  good  form.  The  Queen  had 
graciously  responded  with  a  card  of  invitation,  and 
probably  thought  that  the  table  which  was  some 
times  graced  by  the  presence  of  the  premier  was  not 
unsuitable  for  this  temporary  scion  of  the  White 
House. 

The  General  and  Mrs.  Grant  wandered  over 
Europe,  Asia,  and  Africa,  and  at  every  court  out 
of  England,  were  treated  according  to  the  rules  of 
good  breeding  established  throughout  the  world. 

After  more  than  a  two  years'  absence,  the  family 
returned  to  America,  where  all  the  old  enthusiasm 
revived  for  the  hero  of  Appomattox.  His  friends 
suggested  that  he  should  be  a  candidate  for  a  third 


MRS.    GRANT.  383 

presidential  term.  The  idea  of  again  wielding  the 
power  of  the  high  position  was  very  attractive  to 
him,  and  still  more  so  to  Mrs.  Grant,  who  had 
yielded  it  up  so  reluctantly.  Both  felt  themselves 
better  fitted  by  their  foreign  travel  to  act  their  parts. 
The  nomination  of  1880  was  more  fiercely  contested 
than  elections  usually  are.  So  tenacious  were  his 
friends,  a  permanent  division  of  the  party  was  feared  ; 
they  stood  with  a  solid  front  that  neither  broke  rank 
nor  wavered,  but  the  adverse  side  won,  with  Garfield 
to  lead  them  on  to  victory.  The  result  was  very 
mortifying  to  General  and  Mrs.  Grant,  and  the 
disappointment  keen. 

If  an  administration  be  to  be  used  for  the  benefit 
of  poor  relations  and  personal  friends,  the  president 
in  power  naturally  chooses  that  they  shall  at  least  be 
his  own.  The  ex-president  had  only  done  what  he 
said  was  his  duty  in  placing  Mr.  Hayes  in  power, 
yet  he  thought  himself  ill-used  in  not  being  allowed 
to  control  a  goodly  amount  of  patronage,  and  the 
relations  of  the  two  soon  became  strained.  It  was 
the  same  with  Garfield  ;  he  had  given  efficient  help, 
used  his  influence  in  the  campaign,  and  deemed  it 
ingratitude  that  a  man  should  be  called  into  the 
cabinet  of  whom  he  disapproved.  Arthur  had  been 
raised  to  power  by  the  dastardly  deed  of  Guiteau, 
but  the  quondam  chief  went  so  far  beyond  the 
bounds  of  delicacy  in  asking  places  for  his  followers 


384  MRS.    GRANT. 

and  relatives  that  the  President  was  forced  to  assert 
himself.  Like  Garfield,  he  had  committed  the  enor 
mity  of  placing  in  his  Cabinet  a  man  who  had 
opposed  the  third  term,  and  added  to  the  flagrancy 
by  passing  over  a  man  not  only  recommended  by 
General  Grant,  but  his  personal  friend. 

The  third  term  proving  a  failure,  the  General 
settled  in  New  York,  and,  by  the  advice  of  one  of 
his  sons,  invested  all  his  capital  in  the  bank  of  Ward 
and  Fish,  which  was  making  large  returns.  His 
little  fortune  grew  and  doubled,  and  soon  he  counted 
himself  a  millionaire.  He  could  draw  checks  at  will, 
used  his  power  generously,  and  no  man  ever  enjoyed 
it  more.  Ease,  prosperity,  and  enjoyment  seemed 
to  be  but  the  proper  crown  for  his  great  deeds. 

On  Christmas  Eve,  1883,  an  era  of  suffering  began 
and  a  train  of  misfortunes  followed  which  ended  at 
Mount  McGregor  in  the  summer  of  1885.  He  fell 
upon  the  ice  at  his  own  door  and  ruptured  a  muscle 
in  his  thigh,  which  confined  him  to  his  bed  for 
weeks  —  the  suffering  intensified  by  a  sharp  attack 
of  pleurisy  —  and  crippled  him  for  the  rest  of 
his  life. 

In  the  spring  there  were  suggestions  of  presenting 
his  name  in  the  coming  campaign,  but  the  soreness 
of  the  mortification  of  1880,  kept  him  silent.  If  the 
party  had  placed  his  name  at  the  head  of  their  ticket 
and  elected  him,  he  would  gladly  have  served,  but 


MRS.    GRANT.  385 

no  persuasion  could  induce  him  to  declare  himself  a 
candidate. 

In  May,  his  financial  difficulties  came,  and  tempo 
rarily  clouded  his  honor,  which  put  him  out  of  the 
race.  The  firm  with  which  he  was  connected,  whose 
name  had  been  changed  to  that  of  Grant  and  Ward, 
stopped  payment.  Hobbling  into  his  office  one 
morning  on  crutches,  his  son,  Ulysses,  stepped  for 
ward,  saying:  "Father,  you  had  better  go  home. 
The  bank  has  failed." 

Two  days  before,  without  security,  Mr.  Wm.  H. 
Vanderbilt  had  made  him  a  temporary  loan  of  one 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars,  which  he,  in 
good  faith,  had  entrusted  to  his  faithless  partner. 
Three  days  before,  his  youngest  son,  by  his  advice, 
had  placed  eighty  thousand,  his  all,  in  the  bank. 
Even  Mrs.  Sartoris  had  invested  her  pin  money,  and 
several  relatives  the  savings  of  a  lifetime.  It  is  not 
strange  that  his  cheek  blanched,  but  he  remained 
calm  and  faced  this  accumulation  of  losses  like  a 
man  ;  but  worse  was  to  come.  His  integrity  was 
called  in  question.  He  who  had  been  weighted  with 
honors  in  all  lands,  was  stamped  as  a  defaulter. 
Then  the  iron  entered  his  soul,  and  the  strong  man 
bowed  in  agony. 

Mr.  Vanderbilt  behaved  with  princely  generosity, 
and  would  have  made  the  loan  a  gift  to  Mrs.  Grant. 
She,  with  proper  pride,  and  with  a  heart  overflowing 


386  MRS.    GRANT. 

with  gratitude,  wrote  that  she  could  not  and  would 
not  accept  it. 

People,  grateful  for  the  services  of  her  husband, 
had  given  her  a  house,  and  to  the  general  the  in 
come  of  a  Trust  Fund  of  two  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  dollars  ;  but  with  his  inaptitude  for  keep 
ing  money,  which  exceeded  that  of  earning  it  in  a 
business  way,  the  task  of  supplying  him  seemed  as 
hopeless  as  filling  a  fountain  from  a  sieve ;  the  man 
himself  wearied  of  the  efforts  made  in  his  behalf,  and 
forbade  further  ones. 

The  house  and  its  valuable  contents,  including  the 
swords  and  presents  which  had  been  lavished  upon 
him  at  home  and  in  foreign  lands,  were  made  over  to 
Mr.  Vanderbilt. 

No  business  could  be  entered  upon  by  himself  or 
sons  until  they  were  released  from  their  liabilities. 
The  editors  of  the  Century  Magazine  offered  him 
handsome  remuneration  for  some  articles  upon  the 
war.  He  was  averse  to  literary  work,  but  honest 
independence  was  a  spur  to  effort,  and  he  made  it. 

American  people  never  tire  of  the  stories  of  Shiloh, 
Vicksburg,  and  the  Wilderness  Campaign,  and  when 
the  editors  of  the  Century  presented  them  direct 
from  the  hand  of  the  great  general  himself,  the 
magazine  became  so  remunerative  that  they,  with 
rare  generosity,  paid  a  sum  far  beyond  the  stipulated 
price. 


MRS.    GRANT.  387 

This  success  suggested  the  writing  of  his  "  Me 
moirs,"  and  several  prominent  publishers  made  him 
offers.  He  had  no  sooner  settled  to  his  work  than 
shooting  pains  in  the  throat,  slightly  felt  in  the 
summer,  painfully  increased.  Mrs.  Grant's  anxiety 
and  urgency  induced  him  to  consult  a  physician,  and 
the  terrible  truth  was  expressed  in  the  word,  cancer, 
which  told  of  a  death  warrant  to  be  shortly  served. 
His  last  days  were  fearfully  pathetic,  and  touched 
the  deeper  feelings  of  his  countrymen. 

His  name  and  fame  under  a  cloud,  prostrated  by  a 
mortal  illness,  entailing  sleepless  nights  and  fearful 
suffering,  he  spent  his  days  writing  the  story  of  his 
life,  modestly  (one  must  read  it  to  realize  how  mod- 
destly)  telling  of  his  great  deeds  in  a  graphic  way, 
and  his  only  incentive  was  the  all-absorbing  love  he 
bore  his  wife,  children,  and  grandchildren.  Surely, 
the  greatness  of  the  past  was  overshadowed  by  the 
heroism  of  his  last  days. 

The  gloom  of  that  trying  period  was  lightened  by 
the  sympathy  expressed  in  every  section  of  the 
country. 

There  was  a  legal  examination  of  the  affairs  of  the 
suspended  bank,  which  swept  away  the  film  that  had 
tarnished  the  general's  honor.  It  was  made  clear  to 
all  the  world  that  he  had  been  deceived  —  was  never 
the  deceiver. 

Arthur's  last  official  act  was  to  sign  a  bill  to  place 


388  MRS.    GRANT. 

him  on  the  retired  list  in  the  army,  and  Cleveland's 
first,  after  forming  his  cabinet,  to  sign  his  commis 
sion.  This  so  revived  his  spirits  that  death  itself 
seemed  to  recede.  He  finished  his  "  Personal  Me 
moirs,"  and  thanked  God  that  he  had  lived  to  see 
"harmony  and  good  feeling  between  the  nations." 

He  was  spared  the  acute  agonies  feared  by  his 
physicians,  and  passed  quietly  away  on  the  twenty- 
third  of  July,  surrounde'd  by  his  wife  and  children. 

Mrs.  Grant  showed  uncommon  fortitude  through 
out  his  entire  illness,  put  aside  her  grief,  and  was 
cheerful  for  his  sake ;  even  in  the  dying  hour  she 
controlled  herself,  held  his  hand  and  looked  lovingly 
into  his  eyes  until  they  were  closed  in  death. 

The  "  Memoirs  "  have  been  even  more  successful 
than  was  anticipated,  and  the  entire  family  are  placed 
in  easy  circumstances  by  the  almost  superhuman 
work  of  the  great  general  in  his  mortal  illness. 

Mrs.  Grant  is  one  of  the  four  living  widows  of  ex- 
presidents,  and  receives  a  government  pension  of  five 
thousand  dollars. 


MRS.   HAYES. 

Miss  LUCY  WEBB  was  born  at  Chillicothe,  Ohio, 
when  it  was  the  capital  of  the  state.  Her  father  and 
grandfather  were  North  Carolinians  —  were  born 
and  bred  in  the  midst  of  slavery,  and  inherited  slaves. 

Removing  into  a  free  state,  they  at  once  imbibed 
free  state  principles.  At  a  serious  cost  they  became 
Abolitionists,  years  before  the  abolition  party  reared 
its  head. 

In  1833,  the  cholera  raged  throughout  the  western 
country,  and  Dr.  James  Webb,  father  of  Miss  Lucy, 
fell  a  victim  to  it  at  Lexington,  where  he  had  gone  to 
make  legal  arrangements  for  freeing  his  own  and  his 
father's  negroes.  The  maternal  grandparents  were 
of  good  Puritan  stock. 

Mrs.  James  Webb  was  left  with  a  son  and  a 
daughter,  the  former  fitted  and  about  to  enter  Wes- 
leyan  University.  In  her  fresh  grief  she  felt  that 
if  she  were  to  be  parted  from  her  only  son,  she  would 
be  doubly  widowed.  Chillicothe  offered  no  special 
advantages  for  her  daughter,  and  it  was  arranged  that 
the  family  should  remove  to  the  town  of  Delaware, 
the  seat  of  the  university.  Miss  Lucy  studied  with 
her  brother,  and  recited  to  the  college  professors. 

389 


3QO  MRS.     HAYES. 

When  he  graduated  and  entered  a  medical  school, 
she  entered  the  Wesleyan  Female  College  at  Cincin 
nati,  the  first  ever  chartered  for  girls.  Her  vaca 
tions  were  spent  with  her  mother  at  Delaware. 

In  the  town,  and  not  far  from  Mrs.  Webb,  lived 
another  widaw,  who  also  had  one  son  and  one 
daughter.  Her  husband  had  died  of  malarial  bilious 
fever,  which  is  as  deadly  and  speedy  in  its  work  as 
cholera.  Migrating  from  Vermont  in  her  early 
married  days,  she  seemed  an  old  settler  in  the  town, 
which  was  the  birthplace  of  her  boy. 

She  had  brought  from  the  Green  Mountains  a 
young  brother,  Sardis  Birchard,  who  had  amassed  a 
fortune- and  never  married.  He  requited  her  early 
care  by  his  devotion  to  her  and  her  children  ;  one 
son,  her  elder  one,  had  been  drowned  while  skating. 

The  uncle's  pride  and  affection  centred  upon  the 
remaining  nephew  ;  his  interest  in  him  was  as  active 
and  engrossing  as  that  of  a  father,  and  he  pleased  his 
fancy  by  picturing  a  great  career  for  the  boy,  but 
even  his  fond  fancy  fell  short  of  the  reality.  To  be 
sure,  his  mother  had  once  prophesied  that  he  would 
rise  to  the  presidency  —  but  it  was  a  jesting  remark, 
made  to  a  neighbor  who  had  said  that  the  feeble, 
wailing  baby  with  the  big  head  could  not  live,  or 
live  only  to  suffer. 

The  boy,  guided  by  his  uncle,  went  to  New  Eng 
land  to  be  tutored  for  college,  and  a  year  later, 


MRS.    HAYES.  39 1 

entered  Kenyon  College,  Ohio.  Upon  graduation, 
he  returned  to  New  England  and  went  through  the 
Harvard  Law  School,  at  Cambridge. 

He  opened  an  office  at  Fremont,  and  lived  in  the 
house  of  his  uncle.  He  showed  no  special  ability  ; 
men  said,  if  he  were  a  poor  boy,  and  dependent  on  his 
own  earnings,  he  would  make  his  mark ;  but  life 
was  too  easy. 

It  chanced  that  Miss  Webb  and  this  new-fledged 
lawyer,  Rutherford  Birchard  Hayes,  spent  a  summer 
vacation  at  Delaware,  and  met  for  the  first  time.  He 
was  a  very  quiet,  self-contained  man,  —  florid,  blue- 
eyed,  and  sandy-haired,  what  might  be  called  the 
pure  Anglo-Saxon  type. 

She  was  vivacious,  dark-eyed,  with  a  broad  brow 
and  handsome  chin.  In  repose,  she  simply  looked 
very  intelligent,  but  engage  her  in  conversation  and 
the  radiant  smiles  which  constantly  flitted  and  lighted 
her  face,  disclosing  fine  teeth,  made  her  beautiful. 

Mr.  Hayes  found  a  fascination  in  watching  her. 
He  wished  to  provoke  those  smiles,  and  asked  for  an 
introduction.  He  had  not  thought  of  love,  but  the 
refined,  sprightly  girl  was  a  sort  of  inspiration  to  him 
—  life  seemed  to  have  more  meaning,  and  his  ambi 
tion  was  roused  to  do  something  worthy  of  a  man. 

Upon  the  return  to  Cincinnati,  he  became  a  fre 
quent  visitor  at  the  Friday  evening  receptions  allowed 
the  young  ladies,  in  the  college  parlors,  and  in  his 


392  MRS.    HAYES. 

eyes,  no  girl  possessed  the  attractions  and  beauty  of 
Miss  Lucy;  soon  he  won  a  promise  that  she  would 
be  his  wife. 

Hitherto,  his  uncle  Birchard  had  held  a  silver 
spoon  to  his  mouth,  but  now  the  spirit  of  indepen 
dence  awoke.  He  would  fashion  a  spoon  for  this 
girl  in  which  there  should  be  no  silver  but  that 
earned  by  his  own  industry.  Under  this  new  inspi 
ration  he  applied  himself  to  the  law,  and  developed 
those  powers  of  which  his  fond  uncle  had  so  long 
boasted. 

It  was  the  last  decade  before  the  Civil  War,  and 
at  no  time  was  the  business  of  the  country  so 
prosperous,  or  money  making  so  easy. 

Miss  Webb  became  a  member  of  the  Methodist 
Episcopal  church,  and  her  religious  zeal  acted  upon 
her  lover.  He  won  an  honored  name  among  the 
poor  ;  fugitive  slaves  sought  him  without  fear,  and 
found  a  ready  advocate.  He  had  spent  the  two 
happiest  years  of  his  life  in  association  with  Miss 
Webb,  and  his  business  prospects  entitled  him  to 
ask  her  to  redeem  her  promise.  Professor  L.  D. 
McCabe,  of  the  Wesleyan  University,  performed  the 
marriage  ceremony.  The  bride's  only  attendant  was 
Mr.  Hayes's  little  niece,  eight  years  old,  who  held 
her  hand  through  the  service. 

Mr.  Hayes  was  at  the  zenith  of  his  profession  ; 
children  were  born,  and  wealth,  honors,  and  domestic 


MRS.    HAYES.  393 

happiness  seemed  to  stamp  his  life  with  permanent 
comfort,  when  "  the  shot  that  was  heard  around  the 
world"  was  fired  at  Sumter. 

From  the  day  that  South  Carolina  passed  the 
ordinance  of  secession,  Mr.  Hayes  rather  wished  that 
war  might  come,  and  that  the  vexed  question  which 
so  often  disturbed  the  harmony  of  the  Union  might 
be  settled.  He  foresaw  a  long  and  bloody  contest, 
and  pledged  himself  to  serve  to  the  end. 

With  the  rank  of  major,  he  enlisted  in  the 
Twenty-third  Ohio  Volunteers,  which  did  such  val 
iant  service  and  had  so  bloody  a  record  at  South 
Mountain.  Major  Hayes  had  become  colonel,  and 
after  being  severely  wounded  in  his  arm,  led  the 
Twenty-third  in  one  of  the  terrible  charges  up  the 
heights.  The  flag  hung  in  rags,  but  it  never  went 
down,  though  there  were  but  one  hundred  men  left 
to  rally  round  it,  and  their  colonel  was  carried  from 
the  field,  fainting  from  the  loss  of  blood. 

In  her  home  at  Cincinnati,  Mrs.  Hayes  read  the 
name  of  her  husband  in  the  list  of  the  wounded  ; 
with  no  clue  to  guide  her,  save  that  he  went  down 
at  South  Mountain,  she  hastened  to  search  for  him. 
The  wounded  were  scattered  over  all  that  region  ; 
those  who  could  be  moved  were  sent  a  long  dis 
tance  away.  Every  church,  house,  barn,  or  shed, 
were  full.  Mrs.  Hayes  had  a  weary  search  for 
six  —  what  seemed  endless,  days  —  often  obliged  to 


394  MRS-    HAYES. 

retrace  her  steps.  Sick  at  heart,  she  went  through 
house  after  house,  scanning  the  ghastly  faces  of  the 
wounded,  before  she  ascended  a  flight  of  rickety 
stairs  in  a  little,  old,  dilapidated,  two-story  brick 
building,  where  lay  the  gallant  colonel  of  the  Twenty- 
third  Ohio  Volunteers. 

Fortunately,  he  was  attended  by  Mrs.  Hayes's 
brother,  who  determined  to  make  an  attempt  to  save 
his  arm,  which  had  been  pronounced  impossible,  and 
he  had  himself  requested  amputation.  Ohio  sur 
geons,  who  were  looking  up  and  caring  for  the 
wounded  of  their  state,  came  in  just  after  the  ar 
rival  of  Mrs.  Hayes.  The  colonel,  suffering  with 
pain,  threatened  with  mortification,  gave  them  for 
parting  words  :  "  Tell  Governor  Tod  that  I'll  be  on 
hand  again  shortly." 

When  he  returned  to  active  duty,  he  held  the 
rank  of  brigadier-general,  and  served  in  the  Shenan- 
cloah  Valley,  saving  the  supply  train  when  Sheridan 
made  his  twenty  miles  ride.  He  lay  bruised  from  a 
fall,  when  that  gallant  officer  dashed  up  upon  his 
black  horse,  flecked  with  foam,  shouting  to  the 
routed  troops:  "Turn  about,  boys  —  we  are  going 
the  other  way  —  we  are  going  to  have  a  good  thing 
on  them  now,  boys  !  "  The  "good  thing  "  is  immor 
talized  in  the  annals  of  the  war. 

Mrs.  Hayes,  who  spent  two  summers  and  one 
winter  in  camp,  endeared  herself  to  the  regiment 


MRS.    HAYES.  395 

by  her  attentions  to  the  ill  and  the  wounded.  The 
general  laughs,  and  says  she  won  favor  by  mending 
an  old  blouse  for  a  half-witted  fellow.  His  comrades 
told  him  that  a  woman  had  come  to  do  the  mending 
for  the  soldiers,  and  was  lodged  at  the  general's 
headquarters.  In  good  faith  he  carried  her  his  tat 
tered  garment.  Mrs.  Hayes  comprehended  the  sit 
uation  in  a  moment,  and  mended  the  blouse  as  if 
it  were  her  business,  determined  to  save  the  fellow 
from  being  the  butt  of  the  regiment.  The  men  were 
somewhat  ashamed,  but  declared  the  general's  wife 
was  "game,"  and  gave  her  the  name  of  "Mother  of 
the  Regiment." 

In  1864,  General  Hayes  was  nominated  for  Con 
gress,  and  a  politician  wrote,  urging  him  to  come 
and  canvass  the  state.  "  Any  man  who  would  leave 
the  army  to  electioneer  for  Congress  ought  to  be 
scalped,"  was  his  answer.  "  Hayes  is  stumping  the 
Shenandoah  Valley,"  was  placed  on  the  banner  of 
the  party,  and  roused  a  wild  enthusiasm.  He  was 
elected  but  refused  to  resign.  To  a  friend  who 
wished  him  to  come  and  share  his  apartments,  he 
wrote  :  "  I  shall  never  come  to  Washington  until  I 
can  come  by  the  way  of  Richmond."  In  the  winter 
of  1865  he  entered  Congress,  and  resigned  in  1867, 
having  been  chosen  Governor  of  Ohio.  In  1874,  his 
uncle,  Sarclis  Birchard,  died,  leaving  him  heir  to  his 
large  estate  and  banking  business. 


396  MRS.    HAYES. 

In  the  Republican  Convention  at  Cincinnati  in 
1876,  Mr.  Hayes  was  nominated  for  the  presidency. 
Though  he  was  no  party  to  it,  it  is  a  little  singular 
that  fraud  was  attached  both  to  his  nomination  and 
election.  Mr.  Blaine  was  expected  to  be  the  win 
ning  candidate.  The  Sunday  previous  to  the  Con 
vention,  a  sudden  illness,  induced  by  excitement  and 
extreme  heat,  prostrated  him  on  his  way  to  church. 
This  slight  attack,  magnified  by  his  opponents, 
worked  unfavorably,  and,  added  to  the  false  state 
ment,  crowded  him  from  the  place.  For  hours  the 
voting  had  gone  on  and  the  "  Plumed  Knight  "  was 
gaining  at  every  ballot,  but  the  long  summer's  day 
was  waning  and  the  tellers  called  for  the  lighting  of 
the  gas.  "The  building  is  not  supplied  with  gas," 
spake  a  prominent  citizen,  with  bold  effrontery.  In 
the  hubbub  the  Convention  adjourned.  The  next 
morning  the  tide  for  Mr.  Blaine  had  ebbed,  and  Mr. 
Hayes  received  the  nomination. 

The  first  returns  in  November  gave  the  election 
to  Mr.  Tilden  ;  soon  fraud  was  charged.  An  Elec 
toral  Commission,  chosen  to  decide  the  matter,  gave 
a  report  in  favor  of  Mr.  Hayes.  Those  who  asserted 
there  was  fraud  were  strengthened  in  their  belief 
by  the  refusal  of  the  party  to  allow  Conkling,  the 
Colossus  of  honesty,  on  the  Commission,  and  boldly 
declared  that  there  had  been  a  cunningly  devised 
plan  for  declaring  Mr.  Hayes  legally  elected,  con- 


MRS.    HAYES.  397 

trary  to  the  face  of  the  returns.  Rather  than 
abet  fraud,  Conkling  would  have  been  drawn  in 
pieces. 

Governor  Hayes,  with  his  family,  left  Columbus 
on  the  first  of  March,  having  been  notified  by  his 
friends  that  the  Electoral  Commission  would  decide 
in  his  favor.  The  certified  result  was  telegraphed 
and  received  on  the  train. 

Arriving  in  Washington  in  a  pouring  rain,  they 
were  met  by  Senator  Sherman  and  driven  to  his 
house.  The  city  was  crowded  with  people  and  there- 
was  a  fine  procession  on  the  fifth,  but  owing  to  the 
shortness  of  the  time  there  was  less  display  than 
usual,  and  no  inaugural  ball.  The  President  tend 
ered  his  carriage,  drawn  by  four  horses,  and  rode  to 
the  Capitol  with  the  President  elect.  Mrs.  Grant, 
with  some  friends,  received  the  family,  and  she  pre 
sided  over  the  handsome  lunch  she  had  prepared  for 
them. 

Mrs.  Hayes  was  no  parvenu  —  was  versed  in  the 
social  etiquette  of  the  best  society,  and  frankly 
acknowledged  her  pleasure  in  becoming  the  mistress 
of  the  Executive  Mansion.  Unlike  Mrs.  Grant,  she 
was  charmed  with  the  house  ;  every  room  had  its 
history.  "  No  matter  what  they  build,  they  will 
never  build  any  more  rooms  like  these,"  she  would 
say,  as  she  took  her  friends  over  it.  Her  own 
husband  had  already  enacted  a  strange  scene  in 


398  MRS.    HAYES. 

the  Red  Room,  secretly  taking  the  oath  of  office 
before  the  Chief  Justice,  with  only  herself,  General 
Grant,  and  his  son  for  witnesses,  taken  it,  lest  a 
revolution  might  follow  the  uncertainties  of  his 
election. 

Mrs.  Hayes  was  an  element  in  the  administration, 
and  placed  herself  beside  her  husband  in  his  official 
rank,  yet  outside  interference  she  met  with  dignity 
and  rebuke.  To  one  woman,  who  came  with  sug 
gestions  as  to  the  presidential  housekeeping,  she 
said  :  "  Madam,  it  is  my  husband,  not  myself,  who  is 
President.  I  think  that  a  man  who  is  capable  of 
filling  so  important  a  position,  as  I  believe  my 
husband  to  be,  is  quite  competent  to  establish 
such  rules  as  will  obtain  respect  in  his  house,  with 
out  calling  on  members  of  other  households.  I 
would  not  offend  you  and  I  would  not  offend  Mr. 
Hayes,  who  knows  what  is  due  to  his  position,  his 
family,  and  himself,  without  any  interference  of 
others,  directly  or  through  his  wife." 

This  was  very  dignified,  but  no  woman  in  the 
White  House  ever  exercised  such  power  over  public 
affairs  and  such  rigidity  in  domestic  affairs.  She 
not  only  believed  in  and  practised  total  abstinence 
from  all  intoxicating  drinks,  but  she  determined 
that  all  who  came  within  the  doors  of  the  national 
mansion  should  practise,  whether  they  believed 
or  no. 


MRS.    HAYES.  399 

The  Secretary  of  State  declared  it  was  not  seemly 
to  invite  the  diplomatic  corps  to  their  annual  dinner 
and  serve  no  wines ;  he  refused  to  consent  to  it. 
Mrs.  Hayes  would  not  yield  the  point,  and  as  usual 
in  such  extreme  cases,  a  plan  was  made  to  circum 
vent  her.  Oranges  were  prepared,  filled  with  deli 
cious  frozen  punch.  Mrs.  Hayes  and  the  uninitiated 
wondered  why  this  fruit  was  preferred  above  all 
other.  Unknown  to  her,  Roman  punch  was  served 
at  every  State  dinner,  the  steward  duly  instructed 
just  how  to  temper  the  potency  for  each  guest. 
Those  who  partook,  laughingly  called  it  the  "Life 
Saving  Station." 

The  name  of  Mrs.  Hayes  was  trumpeted  over  the 
land  as  one  who,  sitting  in  the  highest  place,  had  set 
a  noble  example  to  the  world.  By  her  devotees,  she 
was  even  compared  to  the  Marys  who  stood  beside 
the  cross,  though  one  fails  to  see  the  resemblance 
between  those  sorrowful  women  and  the  social,  pros 
perous,  radiant  Mrs.  Hayes.  Perhaps  Mrs.  Cleve 
land,  quietly  drinking  her  glass  of  Apollinaris  water, 
has  quite  as  potent  an  influence  for  good,  and  men 
would  scorn  to  indulge  in  excess  or  do  an  underhand 
thing  in  her  gracious  presence. 

No  one  doubted  the  sincerity  and  purity  of  Mrs. 
Hayes's  motives,  but  she  was  a  devout  follower  of  a 
sect  who  frown  upon  what  are  usually  deemed  inno 
cent  amusements.  The  billiard  table  was  removed 


4OO  MRS.     HAYES. 

from  the  house  at  her  bidding ;  did  her  husband  plan 
a  social  game  of  cards  in  his  private  room,  there  sat 
his  lady,  more  entertaining  and  winsome  than  ever, 
full  of  interest  in  the  domestic  affairs  of  each  guest. 
Once  a  gentleman  ventured  to  remark  that  he  was 
afraid  that  the  party  were  detaining  her  from  ladies, 
and  the  pleasant  duties  of  her  station.  Ah,  no* 
indeed  !  This  was  the  hour  with  her  husband  and 
any  of  his  intimate  friends  who  happened  to  drop 
in.  The  President  yawned  and  the  guests  with 
drew  with  the  sweetest  "  parting  benedictions  "  from 
Mrs.  Hayes.  The  next  day  Mr.  Hayes  said  to  his 
disappointed  friends  :  "  It's  no  use  ;  Lucy  won't  have 
it.  She  doesn't  say  a  word,  but  you  see  how  she 
works  it.  There  won't  be  any  kind  of  wickedness  in 
the  White  House,  if  she  can  help  it.  There  is  a 
great  deal  of  intriguing  which  she  knows  nothing 
about  ;  but  that  doesn't  count.  When  she  strikes 
anything  off  color,  she  shoots  it  on  the  spot." 

A  crusader,  passing  through  a  little  Pennsylvania 
village,  was  told  that  the  postmistress  had  so  offen 
sively  meddled  in  the  temperance  movement,  attack 
ing  every  man,  not  teetotal,  who  came  into  the 
office,  that  the  citizens  had  complained,  and  she  was 
about  to  be  superseded.  The  man,  relying  on  a 
potent  factor  in  the  White  House,  boldly  tele 
graphed  for  a  stay  of  proceedings.  The  story,  as 
he  told  it  was  listened  to  by  the  Lady  President. 


MRS.    HAYES.  40 1 

Though  the  order  for  removal  was  made  out  at  the 
Post  Office  Department,  the  next  that  the  member 
of  Congress  from  that  district  knew,  the  woman  was 
reinstated. 

Mrs.  Hayes  was  a  devout  woman,  an  attendant  on 
prayer-meetings,  and  lifted  her  voice  in  the  rousing 
hymns  of  the  Methodist  psalm  book.  Baseborn 
motives  were  not  within  the  ken  of  her  comprehen 
sion,  but  office-holders  and  office-seekers  would  often 
play  the  hypocrite's  part  to  ingratiate  themselves  in 
her  favor ;  once  winning  it,  by  teetotalism,  prayers, 
and  psalm  singing,  they  feared  neither  President  nor 
Secretary  of  State. 

One  shameless  fellow  told  his  own  story  as  if  it 
were  too  good  to  keep.  He  knew  he  was  not,  nor 
did  he  deserve  to  be  in  good  repute  with  his  supe 
riors,  but  did  he  imitate  the  zeal  of  John  Wesley  and 
preach  the  doctrine  of  Father  Matthew,  he  might 
hope  to  retain  his  position.  He  went  regularly  to 
church  and  prayer-meetings  where  Mrs.  Hayes 
attended;  would  at  times  look  over  the  same  book 
and  sing  psalms  with  her.  It  worked  well  and  paid. 
Such  a  zealous,  stainless  young  man  without  a  home, 
was  just  the  protege  for  Mrs.  Hayes,  and  he  had  the 
entree  of  the  White  House. 

There  was  to  be  a  little  official  junketing  down  the 
harbor  in  a  government  vessel.  Cards  were  issued 
to  those  who  were  to  make  up  the  party.  This 


4O2  MRS.    HAYES 

young  gentleman  was  designedly  excluded.  He 
called  upon  Mrs.  Hayes,  and  casually  mentioned 
that  he  had  no  card.  "  Oh  come,  and  go  with  us,  and 
a  card  will  not  matter,"  said  the  gracious  lady.  His 
planned  scheme  was  a  success,  but  a  success  that 
worked  his  official  ruin.1  Mrs.  Hayes's  guest  was  in 
vited  to  the  gentlemen's  cabin,  where  champagne 
corks  were  popping,  and  stronger  drinks  flowed  as 
freely  as  water.  The  gentleman  completely  lost  his 
balance  and  in  this  condition  appeared  in  the  pres 
ence  of  Mrs.  Hayes.  All  pressure  was  removed,  and 
a  letter  of  dismissal  lay  among  his  official  papers 
upon  the  following  day. 

Mrs.  Hayes  was  the  mother  of  eight  children, 
three  qf  whom  died  in  infancy.  The  eldest  was  an 
established  lawyer  in  Ohio.  The  second  son,  Master 
Webb,  was  private  secretary  to  the  President ;  his 
coming  of  age  was  duly  celebrated  in  the  White 
House.  A  governess,  granddaughter  of  the  late 
Bishop  Johns  of  Virginia,  was  employed  for  the 
younger  children. 

Mrs.  Hayes  was  always  richly  and  becomingly 
dressed,  wore  no  jewelry,  but  indulged  in  priceless 
laces.  To  a  friend  who  once  asked  her  why  she  did 
not  conform  to  the  fashion  in  the  arrangement  of  her 
hair,  she  said  that  after  she  came  to  the  White 
House,  she  sent  for  a  hairdresser.  He  did  his  work 
and  she  consulted  her  glass;  she  appeared  so  ridicu- 


MRS.    HAYES.  403 

lous  to  herself,  she  took  it  down  and  arranged  it  in 
her  usual  style. 

She  made  but  few  changes  in  the  White  House. 
The  furniture,  like  the  rooms,  was  more  to  her  taste 
than  anything  new  and  modern.  She  ransacked  the 
storerooms  for  discarded  pieces,  had  them  renovated, 
and  if  possible  learned  their  age  and  history.  From 
the  appropriation  of  Congress,  she  purchased  a  state 
dinner  service,  illustrating  the  fauna  and  flora  of 
the  United  States. 

The  President  and  Mrs.  Hayes  had  the  honor  of 
receiving  the  Grand  Dukes  Alexis  and  Constantine, 
sons  of  the  Russian  Czar.  This  time  there  was  no 
imbroglio  with  the  Russian  minister,  and  the  visit 
passed  off  smoothly. 

The  most  prominent  entertainment  given  was  the 
silver  wedding  of  President  and  Mrs  Hayes.  Rev. 
Dr.  McCabe  was  present,  and  renewed  the  marriage 
ceremony.  The  little  girl  of  eight  was  in  the  prime 
of  womanhood,  and  held  the  bride's  hand  as  she  had 
done  a  quarter  of  a  century  before.  No  presents  was 
written  on  the  wedding  cards.  Only  the  officers  of 
the  Ohio  volunteer  infantry,  presumed  to  offer  one- 
a  silver  plate,  imbedded  in  a  mat  of  black  velvet,  set 
in  an  ebony  frame,  given  in  memory  of  kindness  to 
the  wounded  upon  the  field;  inscribed,  "To  the 
Mother  of  the  Regiment,  on  thy  silver  troth."  There 
was  a  representation  in  silver,  of  a  log-cabin  in  the 


404  MRS.    HAYES. 

valley  of  the  Kanawha  ;  above  it,  the  tattered  and 
torn  battle  flags. 

In  the  beginning  of  his  term,  Mr.  Hayes  was 
described  by  the  press  as  a  well-built  man  of  a 
stalwart  frame,  ruddy  with  health,  kind  blue 
eyes,  full  sandy  beard  in  which  there  was  mixed 
a  few  silver  threads,  and  a  smiling,  well-shaped 
mouth.  He  was  an  even-tempered,  good-natured 
man,  and  his  policy  was  to  be  conciliatory  to  all, 
especially  to  the  South,  where  military  rule  sup 
planted  civil  law. 

There  had  been  rather  universal  carping  over 
Grant's  last  administration,  which  had  not  filled  the 
public  records  with  a  clean  page,  and  Mr.  Hayes 
thought  his  success  depended  upon  an  entire  reversal 
of  its  measures,  which  was  very  offensive  to  the 
great  soldier. 

Forming  his  own  cabinet  with  the  utmost  secrecy, 
taking  no  one's  counsel,  he  was  miffed  that  his  oppo. 
nents  were  selected  to  fill  that  of  his  successor. 
Judge  Key,  who  had  cast  his  fortunes  with  the  South 
during  the  war,  and  was  ruined,  even  beggared  at  the 
end,  was  chosen  postmaster-general,  the  first  among 
the  disloyal  so  received. 

United  States  troops  were  withdrawn  from  the 
South  by  the  President,  because  he  honestly  thought 
it  was  the  only  hope  of  making  that  section  peaceful 
and  prosperous,  and  of  cementing  the  bands  about 


MRS.    HAYES.  405 

the     Union.     His     extreme    conciliatory    measures 
aroused  the  jealousy  of  the  North. 

At  first,  he  boldly  denied  that  those  who  had  man 
ipulated  Southern  electoral  votes  had  any  claim  on 
him  ;  that  some  afterward  received  office  as  compensa 
tion  was  believed  to  have  been  owing  to  the  pressure 
of  the  party,  which  he  had  not  the  backbone  to  resist. 

The  administration  had  as  usual  to  face  difficulties 
with  the  Indians  and  with  England. 

The  Utes,  robbed  by  the  government  agents,  and 
pushed  back  by  the  miners  at  White  River  Agency, 
rose  and  were  put  down  by  United  States  troops. 
The  vexed  question  of  Northeastern  Fisheries  loomed 
up.  This  time  England  probably  had  a  real  griev 
ance,  for  the  commissioners  assembled  at  Halifax 
awarded  her  five  and  one  half  million  dollars. 

Government  relations  were  pushed  with  China, 
which  resulted  in  a  treaty  favorable  to  commerce,  and 
another  regulating  Chinese  immigration,  much  to 
the  relief  of  the  people  on  the  Pacific  slope. 

The  last  month  of  1879  was  made  memorable  by 
the  resumption  of  specie  payments,  which  seemed  to 
lift  the  cloud  which  had  hung  over  the  financial 
affairs  of  the  country  for  seventeen  years. 

The  calamities  of  this  term  were  the  railroad 
strikes  of  1877,  which  necessitated  calling  out 
United  States  troops,  and  the  Yellow  fever  scourge 
of  1878,  which  raged  in  the  Mississippi  Valley. 


4O6  MRS.    HAYES. 

Mrs.  Hayes  last  New  Year's  reception,  which  fell 
upon  the  coldest  day  ever  known  in  Washington, 
was  a  very  elegant  affair ;  surrounded  by  a  bevy  of 
young  ladies,  who  throughout  her  reign,  were  ever 
flitting  about  the  Executive  Mansion,  she  looked 
more  dignified  and  radiant  than  ever,  in  a  dress  of 
creamy  white  ribbed  silk,  trimmed  with  satin  and 
pearl  passementeries,  her  beautiful  hair  plainly 
knotted  at  the  back  and  fastened  by  a  silver  comb. 

Mrs.  Hayes's  friends,  to  show  their  appreciation  of 
the  stand  she  had  taken  upon  the  temperance 
question,  had  a  picture  of  her  painted  full  length, 
to  hang  in  the  White  House.  The  selected  space 
did  not  suit  the  fancy  or  aesthetic  taste  of  President 
Arthur  and  he  moved  it,  which  brought  about  his 
ears  such  abuse  that  one  would  have  thought  that 
he  had  profaned  something  holy. 

Mr.  Hayes  courteously  accompanied  his  successor 
to  the  Capitol,  and  congratulated  him  upon  his 
accession.  Mrs.  Hayes  had  kindly  invited  the  ven 
erable  mother  of  Garfield  to  the  White  House  on 
her  arrival,  and  escorted  her  to  the  gallery  of  the 
Capitol  to  witness  the  inauguration  of  the  son  she 
called  her  baby. 

Mrs.  Hayes  lunched  the  party,  as  she  had  been 
lunched  by  Mrs.  Grant  at  her  own  coming.  She 
and  the  ex-President  were  driven  to  the  house  of 
Secretary  Sherman,  where  they  had  been  received 


MRS.    HAYES. 


on  that  wet  March  morning,  four  years  before,  when 
the  gloomy  outlook  threatened  revolution  and  the 
taunting  name  of  usurper  had  so  clouded  their 
triumph. 

In  the  evening,  Mrs.  Hayes  went  to  the  inaugural 
ball,  arrayed  in  cream-colored  satin,  trimmed  with 
ermine,  and  bade  a  dignified  farewell  to  Washington 
society.  The  next  morning  the  retiring  family  left 
the  capital  for  Spiegel  Grove,  the  name  of  the  home 
in  Fremont  inherited  from  Sardis  Birchard.  Mr. 
Hayes  is  the  only  ex-president  living  ;  though  the 
silver  threads  have  multiplied,  he  was  scarcely  aged 
by  official  cares,  perhaps,  because  they  were  so  ably 
shared  by  his  efficient  helpmate. 


MRS.   GARFIELD. 

Miss  LUCRETIA  RUDOLPH  was  the  daughter  of 
Zebulon  Rudolph,  whose  uncle  fought  in  the  Revo 
lution  and  afterwards  went  to  France  and  fought  in 
the  wars  of  Napoleon,  where  he  rose  to  a  high  rank. 
The  family  were  poor,  and  there  was  nothing  in  the 
life  of  this  girl  to  be  noted,  save  that  she  showed 
uncommon  intelligence  and  was  eager  to  learn  all 
that  boys  learned. 

Living  in  the  days  when  it  was  uncommon  for 
girls  to  engage  in  classical  studies,  she  zealously 
entered  upon  them  at  Hiram,  where  James  Abram 
Garfield  was  teacher.  It  does  not  appear  that  he 
neglected  her  mental  culture,  when  we  read  that 
twenty  years  after  she  had  sufficient  erudition  to  fit 
her  sons  for  college,  but  with  the  Latin  and  Greek, 
he  mixed  lessons  upon  love,  which  she  diligently 
conned. 

If  she  had  been  a  remarkable  girl,  the  teacher  had 
been  a  still  more  remarkable  boy.  He  was  the  son 
of  a  widow,  so  poor  that  she  worked  in  her  own 
fields,  split  her  own  rails  and  built  her  own  fences. 
Obliged  as  she  was  to  do  both  a  man's  and  a  woman's 
work  for  the  support  of  her  little  brood,  she  found 

408 


MRS.    GARFIELD.  409 

time  to  teach  them  to  read.  As  they  grew  older, 
they  helped  to  till  the  small  farm,  and  "hired  out" 
among  the  neighbors.  When  eighteen,  this  young 
est  boy  left  home  against  the  mother's  will,  to  seek 
his  fortune  ;  either  his  abilities  did  not  fit  him  or  his 
ambition  did  not  soar  very  high,  for  he  engaged  as  a 
tow-boy  on  the  Erie  Canal.  Contracting  malaria,  he 
went  home,  and  a  long  illness  followed.  In  conva 
lescence,  his  wise  mother  did  not  try  to  coerce  his 
desire  to  return  to  the  tow-path,  but  by  gentle  per 
suasions  gained  xhis  consent  to  take  three  months' 
schooling  at  Hiram,  until  he  had  gained  his  full 
strength.  His  mind  seemed  to  open  and  expand  at 
once,  the  schooling  developed  powers  he  did  not 
know  that  he  possessed. 

Life  on  the  canal  boat  was  not  quite  so  alluring, 
and  he  was  ready  to  accede  to  his  mother's  pleadings 
that  he  should  try  to  acquire  an  education.  In  her 
straitened  circumstances,  she  could  do  no  more  than 
advise.  His  splendid  physique  fitted  him  to  bear 
bodily  and  mental  strain,  and  he  must  work  his  own 
way.  For  years,  life  was  a  season  of  unintermitted 
toil,  in  which  he  managed  to  earn  his  daily  bread, 
master  the  languages,  science,  literature,  fine  arts, 
and  win  a  girl's  heart. 

There  were  lovers'  quarrels,  which  sometimes 
threatened  that  the  pair  would  walk  in  opposite 
paths,  yet  no  sooner  did  he  graduate  from  Williams 


4IO  MRS.    GARFIELD. 

College  than  they  united  their  fortunes  upon  the 
meagre  salary  of  a  professor  of  the  little  academy  at 
Hiram.  He  joined  a  sect  called  Disciples  or  Carnp- 
bellites  and  often  officiated  as  preacher  in  their 
chapel. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  Civil  War,  he  offered  his 
services  and  was  commissioned  lieutenant-colonel 
of  the  Forty-second  Ohio  Volunteers.  His  regiment 
did  good  service  in  Kentucky  under  General  Buell 
but  it  was  at  Chickamauga  that  Garfield  won  his 
military  glory  and  for  his  services  was  promoted  to 
the  rank  of  major-general.  By  rigid  economy  he  had 
saved  eight  hundred  dollars,  with  which  he  pur 
chased  a  little  cottage  for  his  wife  and  the  children 
who  had  begun  to  cluster  about  his  hearth.  Once, 
when  one,  whom  they  called  Little  Trot,  was  lying 
very  ill,  he  went  home  and  was  in  time  to  hear  her 
last  sigh,  lay  her  in  the  village  churchyard,  and  place 
a  stone  with  the  inscription, 

LITTLE   TROT, 

She  Wears  the  Crown  Without  the  Conflict. 

While  in  the  field,  General  Garfield  was  elected 
to  Congress,  and  at  Lincoln's  urgent  request,  re 
signed  his  commission  and  took  his  seat.  He  was 
returned  again  and  again,  until  in  1880,  he  was 
chosen  United  States  senator  from  Ohio.  In  the 
small,  quiet  home  at  Washington,  General  and  Mrs. 


MRS.    GARFIELD.  4!  I 

Garfield  had  a  circle  of  their  own,  from  the  more 
cultured  class  of  society,  but  were  unknown  in  the 
fashionable  world. 

In  the  Republican  Convention  of  1880,  at  Chicago, 
there  were  three  prominent  candidates ;  Grant  for  a 
third  term,  Sherman,  and  Elaine.  Garfield  attended 
as  the  pledged  supporter  of  Sherman.  It  was  whis 
pered  in  advance,  that  while  ostensibly  acting  for 
Sherman,  he  would  work  for  his  own  nomination, 
and  that  the  Blaine  supporters  would  forsake  their 
favorite  and  wheel  into  line  for  him  ;  were  he  but 
led  out  as  a  "  dark  horse,"  he  could  be  his  own 
groom  and  distance  his  competitors. 

Though  an  able  and  fervid  orator,  his  speech  for 
Sherman  was  called  a  cold  and  studied  eulogium  ;  at 
the  close  he  asked  :  "  What  do  we  want  ?  "  and  then 
paused.  A  clear  voice  rang  out  "  We  want  Gar- 
field,"  and  Garfield  it  was. 

Conkling  led  the  forces  for  Grant ;  ballot  after 
ballot  was  called,  and  as  the  famous  three  hundred 
and  six  could  neither  add  to  nor  diminish  their  num 
ber,  he  was  asked  to  allow  his  name  to  be  used. 
The  man  was  indignant,  would,  he  said,  rather  have 
his  right  arm  torn  away  than  work  for  himself  when 
he  was  pledged  to  Grant. 

Grant  and  Conkling  faithfully  supported  the  nom 
inee  of  the  party,  who  was  elected  by  a  bare  majority. 
The  imposing  inaugural  ceremonies  were  conducted 


412  MRS.    GARFIELD. 

with  martial  precision  by  General  Sherman,  but  the 
day  proved  to  be  cold  and  stormy. 

The  President  looked  jaded  and  worn,  but  his 
address  was  given  in  clear,  ringing  tones  ;  he  rever 
ently  took  the  oath  of  office,  then  turned  and  kissed 
his  happy  mother,  who  was  the  first  mother  to  wit 
ness  the  inauguration  of  a  son.  At  the  ball  in  the 
evening,  Mrs.  Garfield  made  a  very  pleasant  impres 
sion  by  her  quiet,  ladylike  manners  and  appropriate 
handsome  dress  of  heliotrope  satin,  trimmed  with 
rich  lace,  a  bunch  of  pansies  in  her  corsage,  and  no 
jewelry. 

Under  Mr.  Hayes's  administration,  the  country 
prospered,  and  the  public  debt  was  greatly  dimin 
ished,  but  the  belief  that  fraud  had  been  used  in  the 
election  made  the  opposite  party  sullen  and  disposed 
to  cavil  at  the  President's  well-meant  efforts  ;  now  a 
new  era  had  dawned,  the  cloud  was  lifted,  and  high 
expectations  were  formed  of  the  success  of  this  ad 
ministration.  Yet  the  President  seemed  to  antago 
nize  his  fiiends  from  the  beginning.  The  Grant 
faction  carped  over  the  selection  of  the  Secretary 
of  State  ;  fierce  discussions  arose  in  the  exposure 
of  the  Star  Route  scandal,  which  was  said  to  have 
been  designed  to  throw  an  especial  reproach  upon 
the  Grant  and  Hayes  administrations.  According 
to  the  rules  of  courtesy  recognized  among  politi 
cians,  senators  are  consulted,  if  not  allowed  to  con- 


MRS.    GARFIELD.  413 

trol  the  appointments  in  their  own  States.  It  was 
said  by  the  aggrieved,  that  the  President  had 
expressly  stated  that  the  New  York  nominees 
should  be  submitted  to  the  vice-president  and  the 
senators  from  that  State.  The  man  who  was  the 
most  obnoxious  to  those  gentlemen  was  selected  for 
the  Collector  of  the  port  of  New  York,  and  the 
minor  offices  were  given  to  men  who  were  objection 
able  to  them. 

The  senators,  Conkling  and  Platt,  resigned  and 
went  home ;  this  raised  an  adverse  faction  in  the 
ranks  of  the  Empire  State.  The  President  was  com 
petent  to  run  the  wheels  of  government,  but  he 
evidently  had  no  idea  of  oiling  the  machinery. 

In  Mrs.  Garfield's  short  occupancy  of  the  White 
House,  she  showed  a  great  deal  of  character,  re 
pelled  any  patronizing  attempts  to  direct  her  move 
ments.  She  was  averse  to  publicity,  reticent,  retir 
ing,  and  discreet ;  the  President  would  sometimes 
say  he  never  had  to  explain  away  any  words  of  his 
wife.  She  did  not  frown  upon  the  restoration  of  the 
billiard  table,  nor  upon  the  glass  of  wine,  in  which 
her  husband  temperately  indulged  at  dinner,  and  set 
before  his  friends.  Desirous  to  fulfil  the  social 
duties  of  her  station,  she  began  with  frequent  recep 
tions,  but  she  was  a  woman  of  too  fine  a  fibre  for 
the  political  world.  For  months  she  had  been  under 
a  mental  strain,  campaign  stories  —  maybe,  colored 


414  MRS-    GARFIELD. 

to  suit  the  opposition  —  had  for  her  a  barbed  point ; 
were  there  a  skeleton  in  her  household,  she  was  one 
who  would  rather  die  than  make  a  public  display. 
She  possessed  a  complete  mastery  of  politics,  and 
the  discordant  elements  of  the  government,  so  early 
displayed,  probably  cost  her  more  anxiety  than  they 
would  a  franker  or  less-controlled  woman.  In  a  few 
weeks  she  fell  ill,  and  for  a  time  the  illness  boded  a 
fatal  result.  When  convalescent  she  went  to  Long 
Branch. 

Henceforward,  politicians  might  wrangle  and  toss 
about  the  apple  of  discord,  and  it  would  be  nothing 
to  her  ;  crowds  might  throng  the  Executive  Man 
sion,  but  never  again  would  she  stand  in  her  quiet, 
self-possessed  way  to  take  them  by  the  hand  and 
give  them  her  sweet-toned  greeting,  yet  the  "coming 
events  cast  no  shadow  before." 

Early  in  July,  the  President,  more  jaded  and  worn 
than  upon  that  wet,  March  morning,  when  he  had 
assumed  his  heavy  responsibilities,  thought  to  put 
care  and  trouble  behind  him ;  promised  himself  a 
real  holiday  trip.  With  a  party  of  friends  he  was 
to  travel  North,  add  his  restored  wife  to  the  party, 
make  a  sort  of  royal  progress  and  at  Williamstown 
receive  the  honors  that  his  Alma  Mater  was  ready  to 
bestow  on  her  favorite  son,  who  had  so  indefatigably 
worked  his  way  to  the  highest  place. 

Alas,  the  dreadful  shadow  was  creeping  on  apace  ! 


MRS.    GARFIELD.  415 

He  had  been  spared  once,  though  he  knew  it 
not,  because  he  had  his  wife  beside  him,  —  now  the 
miserable  assassin  saw  nothing  to  prompt  his  heart 
to  pity,  and  the  fatal  bullets  were  fired  in  the  station 
of  the  Baltimore  and  Potomac  Railroad.  It  was  so 
unexpected,  so  quick  over,  that  Mr.  Elaine,  who  was 
with  him,  could  not  for  a  moment  comprehend  what 
had  happened.  The  rest  of  the  party  were  already 
in  the  cars,  and  when  one  came  and  said  the  Presi 
dent  was  shot,  refused  to  believe  it.  The  wounded 
man,  writhing  in  pain  was  slowly  borne  back  to  the 
White  House  which  he  had  so  gayly  quitted  half  an 
hour  before. 

Mrs.  Garfield's  trunks  were  packed  and  strapped, 
and  as  she  was  weaving  pleasant  fancies  of  the  com 
ing  journey,  the  fatal  message  came  over  the  wires. 
A  special  express  car  was  placed  at  her  service,  and 
she  sped  over  the  weary  miles,  not  knowing  if  her 
husband,  the  father  of  her  children,  were  dead  or 
alive.  The  suffering  man  lay  listening  to  every 
sound,  and  when  her  carriage  drove  to  the  door, 
with  a  long  sigh  of  relief,  he  said,  "  It  is  my  wife." 
In  another  moment  Jim  and  Crete,  as  they  familiarly 
called  each  other,  were  face  to  face.  Her  long  vigil 
of  watching  him  going  step  by  step  into  a  martyr's 
grave  began.  Then  and  ever  after,  —  to  the  days 
when  in  the  funeral  train  she  looked  from  the' 
window  with  drawn-up  blinds  upon  the  people,  — 


4l6  MRS.    GARFIELD. 

her  fortitude  was  something  marvellous.  Every 
paper  told  of  her  wonderful  devotion,  but  woman 
and  devotion  are  synonymous  terms.  A  thought 
less,  giddy  wife  would  try  to  stand  at  her  post 
at  such  a  time,  yet  a  weak  woman  would  sink  and 
give  way  under  such  tragic  circumstances. 

The  solemnity  of  the  time  hushed  the  feuds  of 
the  politicians  ;  though  there  were  those  so  base- 
natured,  if  not  baseborn,  as  to  impute  a  feeling  of 
exultation  to  the  man  who  would  profit  by  the 
dastardly  deed  of  the  assassin ;  for  the  sufferer 
every  heart  throbbed  with  pity  ;  those  who  had 
criticised  and  censured  spoke  not  at  all,  or  spoke 
only  to  praise. 

Before  the  tragedy,  the  proud  old  mother,  affec 
tionately  called  "  Mother  Garfield "  by  the  people, 
had  gone  to  Ohio  with  the  younger  children  ;  after 
the  wires  had  flashed  the  terrible  news,  the  son,  by 
a  painful  effort,  wrote  a  note  with  his  own  hand, 
breathing  hope  and  confidence.  The  physicians  had 
said  there  was  one  chance,  and  he  had  bravely  said  : 
"  I  will  take  that  chance ;  I  am  not  afraid  to  die, 
but  I  will  try  to  live." 

For  a  time  the  reports  were  encouraging,  and 
when  the  journey  was  planned  to  catch  the  sea 
breezes,  there  was  a  spirit  of  hopefulness  throughout 
the  land.  The  bulletins  were  more  favorable  than 
the  condition  of  the  President  warranted.  One  Sep- 


MRS.    GARFIELD.  4!  7 

tember  night,  people  were  awakened  from  their  first 
sleep  by  the  tolling  of  bells,  which  told  that  the 
sufferer,  by  a  singular  coincidence,  had  gone  to  his 
rest  on  the  eighteenth  anniversary  of  the  battle  of 
Chickamauga.  "  Mother  Garfield,"  weighted  with  age, 
slept  on,  and  a  granddaughter  gently  broke  the  news 
to  her  in  the  morning.  An  autopsy  was  held  which 
showed  that  the  diagnosis  had  been  wrong,  but 
showed  the  wound  was  mortal,  so  it  didn't  much 
matter. 

Masters  Harry  and  James,  Mrs.  Garfield's  elder 
sons,  were  at  Williams  College  ;  the  first  hastened 
to  Elberon,  and  the  other  lay  ill  of  malarial  fever. 
From  the  sea,  they  took  the  dead  President  to  Wash 
ington,  and  laid  him  beneath  the  dome  of  the  Cap 
itol,  the  scene  of  his  triumph  six  months  before. 
There  was  a  pompous  funeral,  and  the  sad  cortege 
started  for  the  shores  of  Lake  Erie,  where,  at  Cleve 
land,  dust  was  committed  to  dust. 

The  American  people  were  very  liberal  to  the 
family  of  the  martyred  dead.  It  was  proposed  to 
raise  two  hundred  thousand  dollars  for  their  benefit, 
but  the  sum  rolled  up  to  nearly  double  that  amount. 
Congress  voted  the  life  pension  of  five  thousand 
a  year,  granted  the  widows  of  presidents. 

Mrs.  Garfield  bought  a  house  on  Euclid  Avenue, 
Cleveland,  where  the  family  lived  for  a  time  ;  after 
ward,  she  went  abroad  with  her  only  daughter,  Miss 


41 8  MRS.    GARFIELD. 

Molly.  Satisfied  with  travel,  they  settled  quietly  at 
Bournemouth,  where  they  received  a  good  deal  of 
attention  in  a  quiet  way  from  the  English  upper 
classes,  but  true  to  herself,  Mrs.  Garfield  sought  no 
favors. 

Upon  their  return  to  America,  they  settled  in  the 
homestead  at  Mentor,  where  they  are  said  to  be 
very  exclusive  ;  so  much  so,  they  are  unpopular  out 
side  their  own  small  circle,  which  arises,  probably, 
from  Mrs.  Garfield's  dislike  to  have  her  private 
affairs  discussed  by  the  public. 

On  the  fourteenth  of  June  of  the  present  year, 
there  was  a  double  wedding  celebrated  in  the 
house.  Miss  Molly  wore  the  orange  blossoms,  and 
plighted  her  troth  to  J.  Stanley  Brown,  so  promi 
nent  during  the  campaign  that  ended  in  Garfield's 
election,  and  the  troublous  political  and  bloody  epi 
sodes  that  followed.  Miss  Belle  Mason  wore  the 
orange  blossoms  for  Harry  Garfield,  who  has  formed 
a  partnership  at  Cleveland  with  his  brother  James, 
as  Garfield  and  Garfield,  attorneys-at-law. 

The  murderer  had  a  trial  which  stretched  through 
three  weary  months.  It  would  be  hard  to  tell  why 
it  was  so  spun  out  —  all  sorts  of  base  motives  were 
imputed  to  the  lawyers  who  had  the  matter  in  hand. 
When  the  decision  came  to  twelve  men  from  the 
rank  and  file,  who  neither  knew  nor  wanted  to 
know,  a  quibble  of  law,  they  pronounced  the  wretch 


MRS.    GARFIELD. 

guilty,  and  didn't  recommend  him  to  mercy.  He 
soon  suffered  the  full  penalty  of  the  law  he  had  so 
wantonly  broken. 

A  university  in  Kansas  took  the  name  of  the 
martyred  president,  and  recently,  Mrs.  Garfield  has 
generously  and  gracefully  donated  it  ten  thousand 
dollars. 


MRS.   ARTHUR. 

CHESTER  ALAN  ARTHUR  was  the  fourth  President, 
for  whose  occupancy  of  the  Executive  Mansion,  death 
had  swung  open  the  door  ;  he  was  also  the  fourth  to 
enter  in  without  a  legitimate  mistress  in  his  train, 
because  that  skeleton  guest  had  crossed  the  threshold 
of  his  home  and  passed  away  with  the  immortal  part 
of  the  woman  he  had  chosen  to  be  his  wedded  wife. 
He  still  wore  black  badges  in  her  memory,  and  the 
great  columns  of  the  porch  of  the  mansion  were 
draped  in  mourning  for  the  man,  who,  only  a  few 
months  before,  had  come  flushed  with  natural  pride 
and  ambition,  —  had  been  the  mark  of  an  assassin, 
and  had  passed  away  with  the  martyr's  crown  of  suf 
fering. 

General  Arthur  repeated  the  oath  of  office  in  the 
Capitol,  beneath  whose  dome  the  dead  man  lay.  He 
had  looked  his  mighty  responsibilities  in  the  face, 
and  shrank  from  them  ;  the  circumstances  were 
enough  to  stifle  pride  and  ambition  in  any  man,  but 
only  those  who  knew  General  Arthur  could  realize 
the  depth  of  his  sorrow.  For  months  he  had  been 
watched  and  scrutinized,  and  no  man  could  say  he 

420 


MRS.    ARTHUR.  421 

had  acted  unbecomingly  in  the  trying  position  in 
which  he  had  been  placed. 

There  had  been  a  political  feud  between  himself 
and  the  stricken  man,  but  he,  like  other  oppo 
nents,  had  forgotten  politics,  and  wished  that  he 
might  be  one  to  stand  and  minister  to  the  suf 
ferer,  and  when  the  good  news  came  that  the 
chances  were  in  favor  of  recovery,  no  one  rejoiced 
as  he  did. 

Chester  Alan  Arthur  was  the  oldest  son  of  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Wm.  Arthur,  a  learned  and  cultured  man 
of  Irish  birth,  and  of  the  Baptist  persuasion.  There 
was  a  large  family  of  children,  and  the  means  were 
narrow.  The  boy  inherited  the  literary  tastes  and 
studious  habits  of  the  father,  and  under  his  guidance, 
prepared  for  college  and  entered  Union,  New  York. 
Upon  graduation,  the  first  six  of  a  class  of  one  hun 
dred  and  two  received  an  especial  honor,  and  Arthur 
was  one  of  the  six.  He  entered  Ballston  Law 
School ;  there,  as  in  his  college  course,  he  taught 
some  months  in  the  year  for  his.  maintenance.  Like 
Garfield  he  was  a  self-made  man,  the  architect  of 
his  own  fortune,  but  he  had  the  advantage  of  having 
been  bred  in  a  cultured  home. 

By  the  strictest  economy,  he  laid  by  five  hundred 
dollars,  went  to  New  York,  and  entered  the  office  of 
a  distinguished  lawyer  as  a  student,  and  was  soon 
admitted  to  the  bar.  If  he  were  not  what  was  termed 


422  MRS.     ARTHUR. 

a  rabid  Abolitionist,  he  won  favor  by  defending 
negroes,  and  always  with  success. 

In  the  winter  of  1858,  there  appeared  in  the  upper 
circles  of  New  York  society,  a  young  girl  from  Vir 
ginia,  just  out  of  her  teens.  She  was  called  the 
beautiful  Miss  Herndon  with  the  marvellous  voice. 
Aside  from  her  personal  attractions,  she  was  the 
object  of  especial  interest,  as  being  the  daughter 
of  Lieutenant-Commander  Herndon  of  the  United 
States  Navy.  When  off  duty,  he  was  in  command 
of  the  steamship  "  Central  America,"  running  from 
Aspinwall  to  New  York,  loaded  with  passengers, 

"  If  the  Bermudas  let  you  pass,  then  look  out  for 
Hatteras,"  say  the  old  sailors.  As  the  "  Central 
America"  steamed  up  to  the  dangerous  point,  a 
terrible  storm  raged,  and  she  became  a  perfect  wreck. 
Under  the  admirable  discipline  of  Captain  Herndon, 
all  the  women  and  children  were  placed  in  boats,  and 
safely  taken  on  board  a  vessel  lying  to  for  their  res 
cue.  He  sent  his  watch  and  a  parting  message  to 
his  wife,  but  nothing  would  induce  him  to  leave  his 
post  so  long  as  a  passenger  was  left  on  board,  and  he 
went  down  with  his  ship.  General  Sherman  has 
spoken  of  this  grand  deed  of  unselfish  devotion 
to  duty  as  the  most  heroic  incident  in  our  naval 
history. 

The  officers  of  the  navy  placed  a  monument  in  the 
grounds  of  the  Naval  Academy  at  Annapolis,  to  com- 


MRS.    ARTHUR.  423 

memorate  his  heroism  ;  Virginia,  his  native  state,  pre 
sented  a  gold  medal  to  his  widow,  and  a  large  sum  of 
money  was  raised  for  her  benefit.  She  was  the  sis 
ter  of  Lieutenant  Maury  of  scientific  fame. 

Miss  Herndon's  distinguished  birth,  her  youth, 
beauty,  and  gift  of  song,  joined  to  sweet  Southern 
manners,  made  her  a  central  figure  in  the  upper 
circles  of  New  York  society.  Mr.  Arthur  was  fas 
tidious  and  aesthetic  in  all  his  tastes — a  connoisseur 
of  beauty.  Meeting  this  girl  in  the  midst  of  a 
brilliant  throng,  she  seemed  his  ideal  of  woman  ; 
hearing  her  sing  completed  the  charm,  and  he  set 
his  heart  upon  winning  her  for  a  wife. 

He  had  a  handsome  face  and  a  magnificent 
presence,  was  easy  and  courteous  in  manners,  and 
genial  in  temper ;  we  cannot  tell  with  what  he 
tipped  or  how  he  sped  his  arrows,  but  we  have  proof 
that  they  went  to  the  mark  by  a  ceremony  in  Calvary 
Church,  New  York,  in  which  he  and  Ellen  Lewis 
Herndon  repeated  the  vows  required  in  the  Epis 
copal  marriage  service. 

This  was  in  the  autumn  of  1859,  on^y  a  Year 
and  a  half  before  the  fatal  shot  at  Sumter.  Mr. 
Arthur  at  once  tendered  his  services  to  Governor 
Morgan,  who  appointed  him  quartermaster-general 
on  his  staff. 

The  Herndons  and  the  Maury s  had  drawn  their 
swords  from  the  scabbard  in  the  Southern  cause. 


424  MRS.    ARTHUR. 

Mrs.  Arthur  was  a  true  Herndon,  an  ardent  lover  of 
her  native  state,  a  sympathizer  in  secession,  and 
there  was  a  —  mother-in-law  in  Arthur's  house. 
Fortunately,  love  and  a  dignified  sense  of  what 
was  due  to  a  husband  kept  a  divided  house  from 
falling,  but  it  was  well  known  that  the  loyalty  and 
patriotism  of  General  Arthur  were  submitted  to  a 
severe  test  and  nobly  stood  the  strain. 

He  scorned  gifts;  refused  contracts,  on  the  ground 
that  a  public  official  should  be  as  Caesar's  wife,  above 
suspicion.  His  eulogist  said  :  "  It  is  one  of  the 
proudest  records  of  General  Arthur's  life  that  he 
surrendered  his  position  to  a  successor  of  hostile 
political  faith,  to  receive  from  him  the  highest  com 
pliments  for  his  work,  and  to  return  to  his  profession 
a  poorer  man  than  when  he  assumed  office." 

He  was  twice  appointed  collector  of  the  port  of 
New  York,  and  when  removed  by  President  Hayes, 
he  and  the  Secretary  of  State  bore  official  witness  to 
the  purity  of  his  acts  while  in  office. 

In  1878,  a  great  grief  fell  upon  Mrs.  Arthur.  Her 
mother,  travelling  in  Europe,  suddenly  died  at 
Hyeres,  France.  She  went  there  and  brought  back 
the  remains.  The  shock  and  the  nervous  tension 
caused  by  her  bereavement  and  her  long,  sad  journey 
impaired  her  health,  and  she  never  fully  recovered 
from  it. 

In  January,  1880,  she  was  attacked  by  pneumonia, 


MRS.    ARTHUR.  425 

and  after  an  illness  of  three  days,  died  in  the  prime 
of  her  beautiful  womanhood.  A  rare  and  radiant 
soul  had  passed  from  earth,  and  her  friends  said, 
that,  "to  win  such  love  as  she  won  in  life,  to  leave 
behind  as  dear  a  memory  as  she  has  left,  is  the  lot 
of  but  few  mortals."  She  had  been  always  ready  to 
use  her  glorious  voice  in  the  cause  of  charity,  and 
the  Mendelssohn  Club  of  New  York,  with  whom  she 
had  often  joined  for  a  benevolent  object,  begged  the 
privilege  of  singing  at  her  funeral  service. 

Her  husband  fondly  cherished  her  memory,  kept 
her  room  and  personal  belongings  as  she  left  them, 
was  scrupulous  even  to  the  needle  in  her  work.  To 
associate  her  with  his  Washington  life,  he  placed  a 
memorial  window  in  the  church  where  he  wor 
shipped  ;  in  the  White  House  her  picture  was  hung, 
and  daily  fresh  flowers  were  placed  before  it. 

When  Garfield  received  the  nomination  for  the 
presidency  in  1880,  General  Arthur's  name  was 
tacked  to  the  ticket  to  placate  New  York  and  the 
Grant  faction,  which  had  suffered  a  defeat.  Hope  of 
Garfield's  recovery  gradually  faded  from  the  minds 
of  the  people,  and  there  was  a  state  of  tense  and 
anxious  expectancy.  From  his  successor  nothing 
was  expected,  and  a  great  deal  was  feared. 

There  was  something  reassuring  in  the  short  in 
augural,  in  which  he  said  :  "All  the  noble  aspirations 
of  my  lamented  predecessor  which  found  expression 


426  MRS.    ARTHUR. 

in  his  life,  the  measures  devised  and  suggested  dur 
ing  his  brief  administration,  to  correct  abuses  and 
enforce  economy,  to  advance  prosperity  and  promote 
the  general  welfare,  to  ensure  domestic  security,  and 
maintain  friendly  and  honorable  relations  with  the 
nations  of  the  earth,  —  will  be  garnered  in  the  hearts 
of  the  people,  and  it  will  be  my  earnest  endeavor  to 
profit,  and  to  see  that  the  nation  shall  profit,  by  his 
example  and  experience."  To  a  friend  he  said : 
"My  sole  ambition  is  to  enjoy  the  confidence  of 
my  countrymen." 

Though  trained  in  the  strife  and  turmoil  of  politi 
cal  life,  he  showed  so  dignified  a  sense  of  what 
belonged  to  his  high  position,  that  even  his  friends 
marvelled.  The  obnoxious  collector  of  New  York 
was,  to  his  own  astonishment,  undisturbed.  There 
was  nothing  indiscreet  or  aggressive  in  the  adminis 
tration  to  rouse  the  people,  who  needed  rest  from  the 
strain  to  which  they  had  been  subjected,  and  his  wis 
dom  at  this  crisis  has  been  accounted  the  greatest  of 
his  achievements. 

Not  even  in  the  days  of  Buchanan  were  the  domes 
tic  affairs  of  the  Executive  Mansion  conducted  upon 
a  scale  more  befitting  to  the  head  of  a  great  nation. 
The  President  had  a  brother  in  the  regular  army, 
and  a  bevy  of  married  sisters.  The  youngest,  Mrs. 
MeElroy,  came. to  preside  over  the  White  House  and 
assist  in  the  social  entertainments.  Like  Mrs.  Mad- 


MRS.    ARTHUR.  427 

ison  and  Miss  Lane,  she  is  of  Irish  and  American 
blood,  which  so  often  produces  beautiful  women.  She 
has  the  rare  combination  of  very  dark  hair  and  eyes 
and  a  most  delicate  complexion. 

She  bears  a  striking  personal  resemblance  to  her 
distinguished  brother,  and  has  also  his  high-bred  airs, 
culture,  and  aesthetic  tastes. 

The  appropriation  for  the  mansion  was  spent  in 
alterations  and  decorations  which  add  much  to  its 
attractiveness  ;  the  windows  of  the  dining-room  were 
changed  to  glass  doors  leading  to  the  conservatory. 
The  elegance  of  the  state  dinners  was  a  theme  for  the 
press,  and  was  about* all  the  disaffected  could  find  to 
carp  about.  One  wrote  that  there  was  a  "parade  of 
feasting  and  ostentation,  of  public  display  and  pri 
vate  junketing  such  as  the  Presidential  mansion  had 
never  known."  As  a  rule,  people  were  pleased  that 
an  elegant  etiquette  was  maintained,  and  that  nectar 
and  ambrosia  were  served  to  the  nation's  guests. 

The  most  memorable  event  of  the  administration 
was  the  centennial  celebration  of  the  surrender  at 
Yorktovvn.  Delicate  management  was  exercised  to 
please  the  Germans  and  yet  give  no  offence  to  the 
French.  With  President  Arthur's  great  native  dig 
nity,  he  had  the  happy  faculty  of  always  doing  the 
graceful  thing.  At  the  close  of  the  celebration, 
where  French,  Germans,  and  Americans  had  frater 
nized  and  enthused  over  the  glorious  past,  he  directed 


428  MRS.    ARTHUR. 

that  a  salute  be  fired  in  honor  of  the  British  flag,  "in 
recognition  of  the  friendly  relations  so  long  and  so 
happily  subsisting  between  Great  Britain  and  the 
United  States,  in  the  trust  and  confidence  of  peace 
and  good  will  between  the  two  countries  for  all  the 
centuries  to  come,  and  especially  as  a  mark  of  the 
profound  respect  entertained  by  the  American  people 
for  the  illustrious  sovereign  and  gracious  lady  who 
sits  upon  the  British  throne." 

In  Arthur's  administration,  a  bill  was  passed  for 
the  distribution  of  the  Geneva  award,  another,  for 
returning  convicts  sent  to  our  shores,  and  the  im 
portation  of  contract  labor  was  forbidden.  Postage 
was  reduced,  and  the  tax  upon  matches,  checks,  and 
drafts  removed. 

The  beautifying  and  the  improvements  of  the  city, 
so  magnificently  begun  by  General  Grant,  were  stead 
ily  carried  forward. 

The  entire  administration  was  so  conservative,  so 
dignified,  that  it  commanded  confidence,  and  gave  an 
impetus  to  all  business  interests. 

In  the  summer  of  1883,  President  Arthur  joined  the 
Villard  excursion  party  to  drive  the  silver  spike. 
Dr.  Paul  Linclau,  the  famous  foreign  journalist,  was 
also  one  of  the  party,  and  sent  the  following  des 
cription  to  the  National Zeitung <&  Berlin  :  "  President 
Arthur  makes  a  good  and  distinguished  impression. 
He  possesses  a  broad,  not  high,  but  well-made  fore- 


MRS.    ARTHUR.  429 

head,  a  little  stumpy  nose,  wears  his  mustache  and 
side  whiskers  cropped  short,  and  his  chin  smooth- 
shaven.  His  eyes  are  not  very  large,  but  unusually 
animated  and  of  very  sympathetic  expression.  His 
figure  is  tall  and  elastic,  his  carriage  faultless.  He 
dresses  with  great  care,  even  with  a  certain  amount 
of  coquetry.  He  looks  more  like  an  Englishman  of 
noble  birth  than  an  American." 

After  an  administration  so  deservedly  popular,  it 
was  expected  that  General  Arthur  would  be  the 
Republican  nominee  in  the  presidential  campaign  of 
1884,  but  the  party  handed  the  standard  to  Maine's 
Plumed  Knight ;  able,  eloquent,  and  magnetic  as  he 
is  admitted  to  be,  the  people  distrusted  him,  and  he 
brought  upon  the  party  the  first  defeat  to  which  it 
had  succumbed  for  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  century. 

Upon  leaving  the  Executive  Mansion,  the  tact, 
graciousness,  and  superb  elegance  of  Mrs.  McElroy's 
social  sway  was  recognized  in  a  markedly  compliment 
ary  manner  by  Senator  and  Mrs.  Pendleton,  who  gave 
a  reception  which  was  a  very  brilliant  affair,  even  in 
Washington.  The  cabinet  to  go  and  the  cabinet  to 
come,  the  foreign  ministers,  officers  of  the  army  and 
navy,  senators,  representatives,  and  the  elite  of  the 
capital  were  all  bidden,  and  all  came  to  do  honor  to 
the  lady  who  for  four  seasons  had  right  royally  enter 
tained  and  led  society.  The  retirement  of  no  lady 
since  Miss  Lane  had  caused  so  much  regret. 


43O  MRS.    ARTHUR. 

It  has  been  the  ambition  of  every  President,  save 
Washington,  who  always  stands  alone,  to  serve  a 
second  term,  more  particularly  of  those  who  have  been 
raised  to  the  high  position  by  death.  General  Arthur 
acted  in  his  usual  dignified  manner,  returned  to  his 
home  and  resumed  the  practice  of  his  profession,  but 
he  was  comparatively  young,  sensitive,  and  proud  ; 
the  descent  from  being  one  of  the  greatest  potentates 
upon  earth  to  the  simple  rank  of  a  private  citizen, 
added  to  a  morbid  sensitiveness  lest  he  had  not  come 
up  to  the  requirements  of  his  countrymen,  destroyed, 
or  rather,  sapped,  the  springs  of  life  ;  there  was  noth 
ing  for  which  to  strive,  no  goal  to  win,  — -  he  had 
touched  Ultima  Thule.  t 

Two  years  from  his  dethronement,  he  fell  into  a 
lingering  illness,  which  ended  in  death. 

General  Arthur's  remains  were  taken  to  Albany, 
and  in  Rural  Cemetary,  laid  beside  those  of  his  wife 
aud  infant  son.  His  son,  Alan,  is  a  graduate  of 
Princeton  and  is  travelling  in  Europe.  Miss  Nelly, 
his  daughter,  the  little  maiden  so  often  seen  with  her 
cousin  flitting  about  the  White  House,  is  still  a 
school-girl,  under  the  care  of  her  aunt,  Mrs.  McElroy. 


MRS.   CLEVELAND. 

IN  1885,  a  new  era  dawned  upon  the  United  States 
government.  For  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  century  the 
Republicans  had  been  in  power,  and  had  settled 
affairs  pretty  much  in  their  own  way.  Big  steals, 
even  the  stealing  of  the  Presidency,  and  all  sorts  of 
lesser  frauds  and  corruptions  had  been  charged  upon 
them.  No  one  doubted  that  their  opponents  had  a 
broad  foundation  for  their  accusations,  yet,  the  gov 
ernment  had  somehow  pulled  through,  and  we  were 
not  only  a  great  nation  still,  but  growing  greater.  If 
politicians  do  wrong,  they  never  come  to  the  confes 
sional,  and  the  accused  boldly  retaliated  by  saying  the 
Union  had  gone  to  pieces  when  a  Democrat  guided 
the  ship  of  state,  and  they  had  restored  it. 

If  history  were  repeating  itself  by  restoring  a  Dem 
ocrat  to  power,  so  it  was  in  bringing  another  bache 
lor  as  master  into  the  Executive  Mansion.  The  new 
President  had  made  such  a  flourish  in  reforming 
abuses  as  Mayor  of  Buffalo,  and  again  upon  a  more 
stupendous  scale  as  Governor  of  New  York,  that  upon 
his  nomination  to  the  office  of  Chief  Magistrate  of 
these  United  States,  we  didn't  have  to  ask :  Who  is 

431 


432  MRS.    CLEVELAND. 

Grover  Cleveland  ?  That  was  one  point  in  his  favor. 
It  is  all  very  well  for  a  man  to  be  a  cock-fighter  and 
horse-jockey,  to  live  in  a  log  cabin,  to  split  rails,  and 
trot  round  barefoot,  to  sew  on  buttons  or  to  tread  the 
towpath,  and,  after,  rise  to  the  Presidency.  Ameri 
can  people  honor  such  with  all  their  souls  —  admit  they 
were  born  great,  which  is  so  much  better  than  hav 
ing  greatness  thrust  upon  one  ;  yet,  there  is  some 
thing  in  human  nature,  call  it  by  what  name  you  will, 
which,  with  other  things  being  equal,  makes  one 
more  ready  to  doff  the  hat  to  one  who  is  well-born 
and  well-bred,  one  whose  forebears  held  the  rank  of 
gentlemen. 

When  we  have  pen  pictures  of  the  Presidents,  we 
are  proud  of  the  dignity  of  Washington,  of  his  aris 
tocratic  ways  ;  of  the  courtliness  of  Buchanan  ;  of 
the  elegance  of  Van  Buren  and  of  Arthur.  There  is 
a  sort  of  pathos  in  the  admiration  which  the  manners 
of  the  former  roused  in  the  great  Lincoln  ;  born  awk 
ward,  trained  in,  and  used  only  to  rough  western  man 
ners,  he  exclaimed  :  "  Why,  he  is  enough  to  charm 
the  birds  from  the  trees  !  " 

In  the  earlier  days  of  the  Republic,  the  clergy 
exacted  and  received  reverence  ;  either  we,  as  a 
people,  have  less  reverence,  or  they  have  developed 
so  many  who  keep  busy  with  affairs  outside  the  Mas 
ter's  business,  to  which  they  are  consecrated,  that 
they  have  somewhat  gone  down  in  the  scale  ;  yet, 


MRS.  CLEVELAND.  433 

with  all  this  falling  off,  both  in  people  and  ministers, 
such  aristocracy  as  we  admit  of,  they  belong  to. 

Grover  Cleveland,  like  Arthur,  is  the  son  of  a  cler 
gyman.  His  family  have  been  steeped  in  the  minis 
try  back  to  the  days  when  the  first  came  from  Eng 
land,  which  was  nearly  two  centuries  before  our  Pres 
ident  was  born.  They  have  been  a  shifty  race  in 
their  faith,  or  rather  creeds.  Dr.  Aaron  Cleveland 
came  as  a  minister  of  the  established  Church  of  Eng 
land,  was  a  friend  of  Franklin,  was  nursed  in  his  house 
through  a  lingering  illness,  and  died  there.  Frank 
lin  wrote  his  obituary,  which  stated,  among  many 
good  things,  that  he  was  indefatigable  in  his  calling. 
Each  successive  generation  has  turned  out  ministers, 
the  earlier  ones  pined  the  ranks  of  the  Congregation- 
alists,  the  present  has  veered  round  to  the  Presby 
terians.  A  city  missionary  of  Boston,  so  well  known 
as  Father  Cleveland,  whose  life  nearly  rounded  out  a 
century,  was  a  great-uncle  of  the  President.  His 
daughter  married  Dr.  Cox,  a  distinguished  clergy 
man  of  New  York  city,  which  brought  that  branch  of 
the  family  back  to  the  Episcopal  Church,  and  their 
son  became  bishop  of  Western  New  York.  The 
President's  father  married  an  Irish  girl,  which  inter 
mixture  of  races  so  often  produces  beautiful  women 
and  remarkable  men. 

Country  ministers  and  poverty,  or  rather  lack  of 
worldly  wealth,  usually  go  hand  in  hand,  and  this 


434  MRS-    CLEVELAND. 

family  was  no  exception,  but  the  poor  man's  bless 
ing  was  showered  upon  it  and  nine  little  ones  clus 
tered  about  the  domestic  hearth  of  the  parsonage. 
The  eldest  embraced  the  family  calling,  and  has  a 
parish  in  a  New  York  country  village  ;  a  daughter 
married  a  minister,  and  the  pair  are  missionaries  in 
Ceylon. 

The  husband  and  father  of  the  family  suddenly 
died,  when  Grover  Cleveland  was  sixteen.  No  hope 
of  college  life  now  ;  henceforth  he  must  make  his 
own  way,  and  help  the  others  make  theirs.  For  a 
year  he  was  a  bookkeeper  in  New  York  City.  At 
sixteen,  without  means,  he  had  broader  views  of  life 
than  a  clerkship.  The  great  West  seemed  to  be  the 
field  to  make  one's  fortune,  and  he  had  plenty  of 
energy  and  pluck.  Cleveland,  Ohio,  was  almost  the 
extreme  limit  of  civilization  ;  borrowing  twenty-five 
dollars  from  a  friend  of  his  father,  he  fixed  upon  that 
little,  rising  city  as  his  goal.  Going  by  the  way  of 
Buffalo,  he  visited  an  uncle,  and  unfolded  his  plans, 
which  were  to  culminate  in  a  profession  ;  law  rather 
than  divinity  was  the  bent  of  his  mind.  The  uncle 
was  intent  on  some  literary  work,  in  which  he  saw 
the  boy  had  calibre  enough  to  assist.  He  promised 
him  help  in  his  chosen  career,  and  induced  him  to  go 
no  farther. 

At  twenty-two,  he  was  admitted  to  the  bar. 
Clients  were  coming,  and  success  was  dawning, 


MRS.    CLEVELAND.  435 

when  the  South  made  its  grand  fiasco.  His  mother 
had  three  sons  ;  no  widow  was  asked  to  give  all  her 
sons  ;  none  asked  for  an  only  son.  In  a  family  con 
clave,  it  was  amicably  settled  that  the  young  lawyer 
should  be  the  one  to  abide  at  home  ;  maybe,  because 
he  could  be  of  more  material  help  than  his  brothers. 
When  the  call  came  for  "  three  hundred  thousand 
more,"  he  didn't  stand  upon  his  rights  as  being  the 
widow's  stay,  but  hired  a  substitute,  for  which  he  had 
to  borrow  the  money. 

His  firmness,  straightforward  uprightness,  and 
reform  flourishes  as  mayor  and  governor,  pointed 
him  out  as  one  to  whom  it  would  be  safe  to  give 
a  wider  field  for  his  peculiar  talents;  thus  he  rose 
to  the  Presidency.  Men  of  his  party  settled  down 
in  the  faith  that  honesty,  not  on  Franklin's  policy 
plan,  but  because  it  is  right,  was  to  be  maintained. 
This  did  not  matter  to  the  fashionable  society  class 
of  the  capital,  who  were  all  agog  as  to  what  was 
to  be  the  regime  of  the  White  House.  Arthur 
had  carried  it  on  in  a  manner  so  agreeable  and 
befitting  —  by  gracious  ways  and  courtly  manners 
had  kept  up  such  a  flutter  of  excitement  in  the 
bosoms  of  mammas  with  daughters,  maidens,  widows, 
and  spinsters,  that  they  were  ready  to  look  askance 
upon  this  man,  who  shunned  women,  and  was  intent 
only  upon  business  —  had  won  his  way  to  fame  and 
greatness  by  putting  a  veto  stamp  on  steals  and  swin- 


MRS.    CLEVELAND. 

dies.     It  didn't  sound   interesting,  and   looked   as  if 
the  White  House  were  to  be  made  over  to  the  men. 

Each  inauguration  becomes  more  imposing  than 
the  one  which  had  gone  before,  and  each  one  is  at 
tended  by  a  larger  number  of  people  ;  but  in  these 
days  of  hotel  palaces,  the  beds  are  equal  to  the 
heads.  General  Arthur  escorted  the  President-elect 
in  his  own  carriage. 

The  passing  by  the  Senate,  the  signing  by  the 
President,  and  the  announcing  to  the  assembled  mul 
titude  that  the  great  soldier  lying,  dying,  at  Mount 
MacGregor  was  again  a  general  in  the  army,  was  re 
ceived  with  tumultuous  cheers,  and  formed  the  most 
dramatic  incident  of  the  day  ;  it  was  gracefully  timed 
by  General  Arthur. 

It  was  a  mild  spring  day  and  the  sun  shone 
brightly  as  Mr.  Cleveland  stepped  to  his  place  and, 
almost  without  notes,  delivered  his  inaugural  in  clear, 
ringing  tones.  For  the  taking  of  his  oath,  he  had 
brought  a  little,  time-worn  Bible,  which  had  been 
given  him  by  his  mother.  In  his  solemn  earnestness 
to  preserve  the  Constitution,  so  help  him  God,  he  had 
a  reverent,  superstitious  feeling  that  if  his  oath  were 
taken  upon  that  book,  he  couldn't  swerve  from  the 
right. 

His  brother  and  sisters  were  present,  and  when  a 
lady  asked  one  how  she  preserved  her  composure, 
she  said  she  conjugated  a  Greek  verb  ;  well,  any  one 


MRS.    CLEVELAND.  437 

who  has  tried  to  do  that  thing,  can  testify  that  it  will 
crush  emotion,  as  to  do  it  successfully  one  must  at 
tend  strictly  to  business. 

It  was  soon  learned  that  Miss  Rose  Elizabeth 
Cleveland,  of  Greek  verb  fame,  the  youngest  of  the 
nine  Holland  Patent  Clevelands,  a  teacher,  lecturer, 
and  an  authoress,  was  to  preside  over  the  hospitali 
ties  of  the  White  House. 

Her  life  had  been  too  serious  and  practical  to  fit 
her  for  the  fashionable  vortex  of  the  capital,  but 
she  is  a  lady,  has  strong  individuality,  good  conver 
sational  powers,  and  is  far  from  being  commonplace. 
She  took  care  to  keep  up  the  cuisi?ie,  the  floral 
decorations,  and  the  entertainments.  She  held 
weekly  receptions  and  gave  frequent  lunch  parties, 
at  which  under  her  lead,  there  was  much  brilliant 
talk  and  sparkling  wit. 

The  temperance  people  thought  to  run  the  house 
a  la  Mrs.  Hayes.  They  laid  their  first  parallel,  but 
were  met  by  such  quiet  dignity,  they  never  began  a 
second.  At  her  own  lunches  no  wine  was  served, 
but  for  her  brother's  guests  she  had  too  much  good 
sense  to  interfere  or  he  had  too  much  to  allow  it ; 
not  knowing  their  domestic  status,  we  will  say  that 
it  was  the  good  sense  and  the  good  taste  of  both  to 
conform  to  society  usages  in  the  Executive  Mansion. 

Miss  Cleveland  knew  what  the  public  did  not 
know  —  knew  that  her  own  reign  was  to  be  short  — • 


43^  MRS.    CLEVELAND. 

that  a  young  girl  in  Europe,  "  the  sweetest  in  the 
world,"  she  called  her,  was  coming  to  reign  as 
legitimate  mistress  over  the  White  House. 

In  the  years  gone  by,  when  the  President  had 
been  only  a  city  lawyer,  he  had  had  a  partner  who 
was  a  genial,  generous,  whole-souled,  companionable 
man,  and  his  handsome  wife  had  charming  manners. 
Many  an  hour  had  the  President  whiled  away  in 
their  hospitable  home.  There  was  a  blue-eyed,  viva 
cious  little  daughter  who  often  climbed  upon  his 
knee,  and  called  him  Uncle  Cleve,  —  to-day  she  calls 
him  Mr.  President. 

At  a  time  when  mother  and  child  were  away  on  a 
visit,  Mr.  Folsom  met  with  a  fatal  accident.  The 
tender  and  sympathetic  nature  of  the  President 
made  him  assiduous  in  his  attentions  to  lighten 
the  affliction  and  attend  to  their  interests. 

The  girl  had  been  taught  in  Madame  Brecker's 
kindergarten,  the  Central  School,  Buffalo,  and  after 
wards  went  to  the  High  School  at  Medina,  where 
her  mother  had  gone  upon  the  death  of  her  husband. 

The  President  had  dropped  Stephen  from  his 
name  because  it  was  too  long,  and  this  school-girl 
had  added  Clara  (not  exactly  euphonistic)  to  hers, 
because  it  was  too  short  and,  being  entered  upon 
the  school  records  as  Frank,  often  got  transferred 
into  the  boys'  list.  She  entered  the  Sophomore 
class  of  Wells  College  upon  the  merits  of  her  school 


MRS.    CLEVELAND.  439 

certificates.  Every  week  came  a  hamper  of  flowers 
from  the  gubernatorial  mansion  at  Albany,  and  upon 
her  graduation,  from  the  conservatories  of  the  White 
House. 

The  interest  and  fondness  of  the  President  for 
the  beautiful  Miss  Folsom  was  well  known.  She 
stood  with  her  mother  in  the  group  behind  him  on 
the  day  he  was  officially  notified  of  his  nomination  ; 
the  two  also  spent  a  few  days  at  the  Executive 
Mansion  after  the  inauguration.  It  seems  as  if  the 
social  world  were  a  little  stupid  in  interpreting  the 
signs  of  the  times,  but  when  a  man  lives  nearly  half 
a  century  without  wedding,  he  almost  rises  beyond 
the  suspicion  of  matrimonial  intent. 

The  first  rumor  of  the  real  state  of  things  was  by 
a  telegram  sent  from  Washington  the  evening  Miss 
Folsom  was  about  to  sail  for  Europe.  It  was  not  so 
ambiguously  worded  but  what  it  could  be  seen  that 
it  was  indited  by  the  little  god.  The  unlucky  wight 
of  an  operator  had  a  mania  for  autographs,  and  was 
in  the  habit  of  cutting  off  names  and  preserving  the 
messages.  This  one  was  so  fraught  with  interest, 
that,  under  the  promises  of  never  telling,  he  showed 
it  to  his  wife  and  landlady.  Afterwards,  the  two 
women  quarrelled,  as  women  who  live  together, 
sometimes  will.  The  operator  and  wife  sought 
another  home.  In  the  bosom  of  the  landlady 
burned  not  only  anger,  but  the  meaner  passion  — 


44°  MRS.    CLEVELAND. 

revenge.  She  went  to  the  telegraph  office  and  told 
the  story  she  had  promised  to  keep.  Secrecy  is  the 
strict  rule  of  the  company,  and  the  man  was  dis 
charged.  The  story  got  into  the  newspapers  and 
caused  a  ripple  of  excitement,  but  the  lady  was  gone 
and  there  was  nothing  to  keep  it  alive.  It  was  soon 
looked  upon  as  a  canard  invented  by  a  reporter  to 
make  himself  interesting. 

Now  and  then  came  a  rumor  from  Paris  that  there 
was  a  beautiful  trousseau  preparing  for  Miss  Folsom, 
and  that  it  was  to  be  worn  in  the  Wnite  House.  If 
she  were  the  fiancee  of  the  President,  Minister 
McLane  thought  it  incumbent  upon  him  to  do 
her  honor,  but  the  girl  wouldn't  be  lionized  in 
advance,  and  only  went  about  in  a  quiet  way  to 
see  sights  and  do  her  dainty  shopping. 

In  May  she  sailed  for  America.  Rumors  had 
thickened  as  to  the  President's  intentions,  and  when 
the  steamer  was  due,  his  private  secretary,  Colonel 
Lament,  came  and  outwitted  the  newspaper  men  by 
quietly  taking  the  party  on  board  a  little  steamer 
held  in  readiness  for  the  purpose. 

Memorial  Day  followed,  and  the  President  went  to 
New  York,  ostensibly,  to  listen  to  dirges  ;  well,  the 
dirges  weren't  neglected,  but  there  seemed  to  be 
marriage  bells  tinkling  in  the  air.  Once,  Gilmore's 
Band  played  Mendelssohn's  Wedding  March,  an 
other  struck  up  "We've  got  him  on  the  list,"  and 


MRS.     CLEVELAND.  44! 

a  third,  "For  he's  going  to  marry  Yum-Yum,  Yum- 
Yum."  It  was  seen  that  the  waving  of  a  little 
handkerchief  took  the  solemnity  inspired  by  the  work 
in  hand,  from  the  President's  face.  Yet,  there  was 
an  air  of  secrecy  which  hardly  seemed  befitting  in 
the  marriage  of  the  Chief  Magistrate  of  these  United 
States.  Even  on  Memorial  Day,  Dr.  Sunderland 
who  performed  the  ceremony  doubted  if  there  were 
to  be  a  wedding.  Well,  the  President  could  explain. 

Miss  Folsom  had  a  grandfather  at  Folsomdale 
whom  she  called  Papa  John,  who  was  to  give  away 
the  bride  or  do  whatever  Presbyterians  do,  when  one 
of  their  women  joins  another  clan. 

While  she  was  crossing  the  Atlantic,  he  died ; 
what  plans  had  been  formed,  were  all  agley.  As 
the  fiancee  of  the  President,  newspaper  men  would 
make  life  a  burden,  and  it  was  resolved  that  there 
should  be  an  immediate  ceremony.  With  the  uncon 
ventional  ideas  of  a  young  girl,  who  is  always 
supreme  upon  the  matter  of  her  wedding  rites,  she 
decided  to  plight  her  troth  in  the  White  House, 
which  has  added  to  the  Mansion,  so  crowded  with 
historic  interest,  its  most  brilliant  annal,  made  bril 
liant  by  the  young,  beautiful  woman  who  there 
became  a  bride. 

It  was  a  very  private  wedding,  only  the  families 
of  the  bridal  pair,  and  the  Cabinet  members,  with 
their  wives,  being  present. 


442  MRS.    CLEVELAND. 

A  ring  was  used,  though  there  had  been  some 
question  as  to  the  propriety  of  it.  Dissenters  are 
rising  above  the  old  prejudice  against  a  symbol  or 
ceremony  which  was  originally  introduced  by  the 
Catholic  Church. 

The  social  world  were  piqued,  and  frowned. 
According  to  their  code,  if  the  lady  came  as  royal 
brides  come  to  the  houses  of  their  lords,  nothing  but 
a  wedding  conducted  as  royalty  would  conduct  it, 
could  make  the  coming,  seemly. 

The  people  would  gladly  have  rung  marriage  bells 
in  honor  of  the  pair,  and  with  bared  heads  strewn 
roses  in  their  path,  as  an  open  barouche  wheeled 
them  from  the  front  portico  of  the  Executive  Man 
sion.  To  defraud  them  even  of  this  small  courtesy, 
carriages  from  the  south  entrance  were  sent  to  all 
points  of  the  compass  to  cover  or  conceal  their 
departure. 

Mrs.  Cleveland's  pictures  are  everywhere,  but 
not^ne  does  her  justice;  the  gleam  of  the  eye  and 
the  radiant  smile  are  wanting.  In  repose,  you  say 
she  is  very  pretty ;  if  she  smile,  you  say  she  is  beau 
tiful  ;  if  she  take  you  by  the  hand  and  give  you  her 
cordial  greeting,  you  feel  for  the  moment  she  has 
given  you  a  piece  of  her  heart,  and  you  are  very  sure 
she  has  won  your  own. 

She  has  a  tall,  girlish  figure,  and  there  is  a  girlish 
delicacy  in  her  pale,  transparent  skin,  touched  with  a 


MRS.    CLEVELAND.  443 

roseate  gleam,  her  eyes  are  sapphire  blue,  fringed 
with  lashes  so  thick  and  long  they  look  almost  black, 
and  the  eyebrows  are  heavy,  delicately  arched,  very 
dark,  and  nearly  meet  ;  the  broad,  well-formed  brow 
stamps  her  intellectually,  and  is  shaded  by  fluffy, 
abundant  waves  of  chestnut  hair  ;  her  lips  are  full 
and  red,  and  the  artist,  Ammi  Farnham,  declares 
that  she  has  the  most  beautiful  mouth  ever  seen. 

Don't  tell  us  of  the  need  of  royal  training  to  fit 
the  well-born  and  well-bred  American  girl  for  high 
station  ;  if  our  "  first  lady "  had  been  born  in  the 
purple,  had  come  down  through  centuries  of  royal 
descent,  she  could  not  bear  with  greater  ease,  tact 
and  graceful  dignity  the  burden  of  social  leadership 
which  has  fallen  upon  her. 

Once,  in  company  she  stood  back  for  an  aged  lady 
to  pass  before  her;  the  lady  said,  "The  President's 
wife  must  precede  all  others."  With  a  fleeting 
blush,  and  pretty  deprecating  air,  she  said,  "  Must 
I  ? "  and  passed  on.  A  man  who  had  a  goose  all 
trussed  to  toss  into  the  Republican  oven,  sneeringly 
remarked,  if  she  had  been  "to  the  manner  born,"  she 
would  have  known  that,  without  being  told.  Natu 
ral  high  breeding,  which  inspires  reverence  for  age, 
goes  farther  than  formal,  royal  etiquette  ;  only  men 
who  kept  geese  to  roast  took  exception. 

If  she  be,  to  be  compared  with  the  homely,  inele 
gant  Queen  Charlotte,  the  prosaic,  retiring  Queen 


444  MRS-     CLEVELAND. 

Adelaide,  the  haughty,  heavy  Queen  Victoria,  the 
only  English  Queens  since  the  States  became  inde 
pendent,  where  will  the  honors  lie  ?  In  this  she  does 
not  stand  alone.  Lady  Washington  was  born  and 
bred  in  vice-regal  courts,  but  Mrs.  John  Adams, 
Mrs.  Madison,  Mrs.  John  Quincy  Adams,  Mrs.  Polk, 
Miss  Lane  and  Mrs.  Hayes  are  a  galaxy  of  fair 
women  of  White  Hojse  fame  who  could  stand  that 
test. 

Mrs.  Cleveland,  the  youngest  among  the  wives  of 
the  presidents,  seems  the  soul  of  the  administration  ; 
she  has  become  an  integral  part  of  it  by  her  sweet, 
womanly  ways,  which  subdue  even  the  bitterest  politi 
cal  opponents  ;  she  has  but  to  show  her  gracious 
presence  and  winsome  manners  to  capture  every 
heart  and  bridge  every  pitfall. 

It  is  a  comparatively  easy  thing  for  a  beautiful 
woman  to  captivate  men,  but  to  please  women  is 
quite  another  thing  and  requires  a  different  sort  of 
talent,  something  in  which  a  beautiful  face  is  not  the 
chief  factor.  The  women  do  admire  her  grace  and 
beauty,  but  it  is  her  sincerity,  naturalness,  and 
cordialty,  that  has  won  their  hearts. 

One  lady,  high  in  the  official  ranks  of  the  opposi 
tion,  says  she  feels  dreadfully  guilty,  as  if  she  were 
conspiring  to  increase  the  lady's  popularity  by  her 
own  open  admiration  and  willing  allegiance. 

Mrs.    Cleveland    laughingly    turns    from    politics  ; 


MRS.  CLEVELAND.  445 

only  reproaches  wine-bibbers  by  her  own  abstinence ; 
is  a  religious  woman  and  goes  about-  her  duties  in  a 
gladsome  sort  of  a  way,  as  if  the  Master's  ways  were 
ways  of  pleasantness. 

The  President  is  not  magnetic,  but  he  is  said  to 
possess  wonderful  tact  in  dealing  with  politicians ; 
can  refuse  those  who  come  for  favors  and  by  some 
indefinable  power  send  them  away  in  good  humor. 
His  administration  is  noted  for  vetoing  the  pensions 
awarded  to  men  who  never  fired  a  gun,  and  to 
women  who  never  had  husbands  nor  sons,  off  the 
pension  rolls.  The  opposition  say  all  these  cases 
involve  but  a  few  thousands,  and  it  is  not  wise  to 
use  such  strictness.  Be  the  matter  small  or  be  it 
great,  the  President  refuses  to  bend  to  congressional 
pressure  —  holds  to  unflinching  integrity,  and  fidelity 
to  his  constitutional  oath. 

The  times  present  nothing  which  possesses  dra 
matic  interest.  The  Indians  and  the  English  are, 
or  have  been  up  in  arms,  as  usual  in  every  admin 
istration.  This  time  it  was  the  Cheyennes  and 
Arapahoes  in  Indian  Territory,  who  complained 
that  they  were  encroached  upon  and  crowded  from 
their  homes  by  the  cattle-herders.  The  President 
gave  their  case  thorough  investigation,  which  ended 
in  ordering  away  the  cattle-herders.  They  pleaded 
in  vain,  and  then  declared  obedience  in  the  pre 
scribed  time  was  physically  impossible.  It  is  no 


446  MRS.    CLEVELAND. 

easier  to  deal  with  Cleveland  than  it  used  to  be 
with  Jackson  when  he  believed  himself  to  be  in  the 
right,  though  the  former  may  not  be  so  fond  of  hang 
ing  or  of  making  so  much  bluster  as  Old  Hickory. 
The  presence  of  General  Sheridan  and  United  States 
troops  made  impossible  things  look  easy  to  the 
herders.  The  result  is  that  the  Cheyennes  and 
Arapahoes  are  in  full  possession  of  all  that  belongs 
to  them.. 

The  English  difficulty  is  the  fisheries  in  the  north 
east,  which  is  as  old  as  the  independence  of  the 
country,  and  for  which  Webster  once  almost  traded 
off  Oregon. 

To  settle  it  there  has  been  a  treaty  on  the  tapis. 
Both  sides  claimed  it  gave  them  less  than  their 
rights,  which  led  people  to  hope  honors  were  easy, 
but  Congress  decided  the  highest  honors  were  given 
to  the  English,  which  would  snatch  away  ours,  and 
they  would  have  none  of  it. 

If  it  be  right  for  individuals  to  do  as  they  would 
be  done  by  —  the  President  takes  the  ground  that 
nations  should  do  as  they  are  done  to  ;  if  the  Cana 
dians  won't  give  as  well  as  take,  and  do  it  fairly,  a 
gulf  is  to  open  between  us. 

The  Canadians  claim  the  Treaty  of  1818  gave  us 
some  good  things  to  which  we  hold  fast,  and  they 
won't  abate  a  jot  of  their  demands.  This  has  raised  a 
war-cloud  as  big  as  a  man's  hand,  but  it  is  to  be  hoped 


MRS.    CLEVELAND.  447 

nineteenth-century  Christians  can  dwarf  its  gro.wth, 
and  in  time  puff  it  away. 

Mr.  Cleveland  has  entered  upon  the  fourth  year  of 
his  administration,  and  is  the  nominee  of  his  party 
for  a  second  term.  There  are  no  exciting  issues,  as 
in  the  ante-bellum  days.  The  chief  difficulty  of  the 
government  is  an  overflowing  treasury,  which  re 
quires  a  revision  of  the  tariff,  and  this  is  the  hinge 
upon  which  the  campaign  is  to  turn. 

The  Republicans  tell  us,  if  the  Democrats  remain 
in  pflwer,  we  shall  have  free  wool — deal  England  all 
our  trump  cards  and  financially  ruin  our  own  people  ; 
they  promise,  that  if  they  may  guide  the  ship  of 
state,  there  shall  be  free  whiskey  and  the  status  of 
every  poor  man  shall  be  made  better.  This  has  a 
pleasant  ring,  but  the  Democrats  come  to  the  front 
and  deny  their  statements  in  toto  and  tell  us  their 
fair  promises  are  dishonest  tricks  to  blind  the  igno 
rant  and  inveigle  voters  ;  they  promise  on  their  part, 
that  if  they  may  remain  in  power,  we  shall  dress 
better,  have  more  things  for  less  money,  but  do  insist 
we  shall  pay  squarely  for  our  whiskey 

There  is  a  third  party,  whose  Rozinante  is  groomed 
to  run  a  quixotic  tilt  against  whiskey.  They  promise, 
if  the  people  will  elect  their  candidate,  to  prohibit  all 
intoxicating  drinks  and  save  them  in  spite  of  them 
selves. 


448  MRS.    CLEVELAND. 

The  women's  party  in  the  field  won't  count,  unless 
they  take  Mrs.  Cleveland  for  their  candidate,  —  then  ! 

Her  popularity  makes  her  the  most  potent  factor 
in  the  administration  which  the  Republicans  have  to 
face  and  fight  against. 

After  the  President  had  been  renominated  in  the 
St.  Louis  Convention,  the  mention  of  her  name 
elicited  such  rounds  of  applause  that  men  lost  their 
heads,  just  as  Adam  did  once,  and  for  a  time  it 
looked  as  if  the  Old  Roman  must  fold  his  bandanna, 
and  pass  from  the  lists. 

We  may  be  sure  that  men  will  toss  their  hats  and 
shout  vivas  for  the  Lady  of  the  White  House. 

Long  may  she  reign  ! 


Of    TM£ 

UNIVERSITY 

Of 
ILIFOH1 


Return  to  desk  from  which  borrowed. 
ThisbookisDUEonthelastdatestampedbelow. 


2May5lLU 


REC'D  LD 


23;8lar'56KG          JUL  261963 


•I* 


'D 


R 


APR  2  01976 

IRVINE 
ERL1BRARY  LOAN) 


JUL191957 


LD2l-95»-ll,'50(2877sl6)476 


YB  20484 


279 


